A Pirate's Treasured Thief: Book One
by KeshaRocks
Summary: He is cold, he is ruthless. He is the greatest assassin of all time. His name is Roxas Skyes. Trained to be the heir to his father's criminal empire, the entire land fears him. But when Roxas gets mistakenly kidnapped by a pirate crew, led by a Captain Axel, he glimpses a world beyond poison, daggers, and the iron rule of his father. But, his rebellion can come with a deadly cost.
1. Prologue

"Wake her up."

The woman is still, asleep and naked. One man pulls out a needle and stabs the tip of her forefinger. She cries out. The sound is just barely coming out of her mouth before a fist strikes her. Blood dribbles down her lips. Her tongue bleeds where she had bitten it.

The man yanks the blindfold off her face. With blurred vision, she looks at her caper. She sees the gray of their cloaks and the short swords swinging from his hips. The way he stands before her, as if she is a peasant in the presence of a man who owns the world, tells her who it is before her even see his face.

"I put word out I wanted you brought before me." Cloud Skyes says. "Consider yourself a gift from Leon and his Lions."

"I hope you're pleased with your present." She says. The woman tries to turn her head to spit, but the shackles around her head and neck prevent it. Feeling horribly sick, she spits the blood from her mouth. Her stomach curls as it dribbles down her neck and between her breasts.

"That'll depend on your answers." Cloud says. A giant muscular man stands beside him. They are outside the city, somewhere on the northern side judging by the trees that grow within touching distance of the wall . . . the wall she is helplessly strapped to by buckles and shackles.

"Lexaeus, clean her off," Cloud says to the giant man. Lexaeus obliges, leaning the blood from her chest and neck with a clean rag. She expects him to fondle her breasts or let his fingers linger on her neck, but the man did no such thing.

"Thank you." She says. She feels her head clear a little. Two torches are stuck in the ground on either side of her, and their light disrupts her eyes' attempt to adjust to the dark. She thinks she sees another form standing beside Cloud. It makes no sense, though. She thinks she sees a young man, someone twelve, maybe thirteen.

"I've been patient." Cloud says. He crosses his arms and stands directly before her. "I've given Cid Highwind plenty of chances to come to my side. Your Shark Guild is strong, and I hold more respect for it than for any other guild. Yet you and Cid did something stupid, girl. You plotted against me."

"No." she says.

Cloud's fist smashes her face. Lexaeus' rag is there immediately, soaking in the blood she spits. The rage coupled with kindness only confuses her more.

"Don't lie to me." Cloud says. "The Weasel came to me last morning and told me everything you'd arranged for him to do . . . for a price of course."

Yuffie feels her stomach sink. A few strands of her hair fall in front of her face, blurring on eye.

"Is that why I'm here?" she asks. "Figure a little torture will help me make your point to the rest of the guilds?"

"What I want," Cloud says, leaning close. "is you."

She opens her mouth, closes it.

"I don't understand." She says at last.

"I need the Shark Guild's men," Cloud says, pacing before her. "All of the guilds must be united in this plan if we are to crush the King come the Royal Garden's Court gathering. For this to happen, the other guildmasters must trust me, and if they are to trust me, they must all join the plan willingly. The second I force loyalty, the other guilds will break away for the fear of absorption and disbandment. Now, your dear Cid has proven stubborn. As satisfying as it would be to kill him, I cannot. Too many whisper of me doing such things as it is. I cannot dignify those mad ramblings with a kernel of truth."

"You want me to kill him," she says, guessing where his thoughts are leading. "I take over, bend knee to you, and suddenly the Shark Guild is just a toy in your pocket, to be used whenever necessary."

"You're smart, strong, and beautiful." Cloud says, not denying her accusation. "It wouldn't be difficult for you to consolidate power should Cid die by your hands. You already have your reason for it. Cid had you contact the Weasel, hoping to use him to sell information about our plan to the King. Doing so puts all of is at risk. Put an end to him. With but a word, I can declare the Shark Guild a friend, and the rest of the vermin will stop pressing your territory, stealing it away from you street by street. You can rule, Yuffie. Do you have the strength to do so?"

Yuffie thinks of betraying her guildmaster, and the very idea makes her sick. He is a good man. A better man, worlds better than Cloud could ever be. And all for what? So Cloud could rely on the Shark Guild's aid when he launches his suicidal plan?

"This is folly, Cloud," Yuffie insists. "We're thieves, thugs, brutes. We're not an army, yet you would have us launch a combined attack against all three leaders of the Bastion during their Royal Garden gathering the one night when they're at their most powerful? We'll be slaughtered and broken."

Cloud runs a hand through her short black hair.

"Do not let loyalty cost you everything." He whispers to her. "Either accept my proposal or suffer the consequences. What's your choice?"

Any other street rat would have turned on their leader. Yuffie is unlike any other member.

"Cid has saved me a hundred times," she says. "Kill me or let me go. I will not turn traitor and knife him in the dark."

Cloud sighs.

"A shame. Will not kill you, Yuffie. That is not part of the deal. Sephiroth required you as his price for telling me of your conspiracy with Xemnas. I had no intention of paying it."

A shiver of disgust runs up and down her spine. Now she understands why they had stripped her naked. They'd even healed the wound in her shoulder where the arrow had pierced clean through. She closes her eyes, trying not to think of the man's predatory gleam in his blue catlike eyes, his long enveloping fingers. She almost changes her mind. Cloud pauses, as if waiting for her to break. When she doesn't, he puts his back to her.

"Remember, Roxas." She hears him say. "Things will never go as plan. Prepare for anything, and be willing to sacrifice everything, even beauty."

Yuffie sees the boy standing next to Cloud, staring at her with his blue eyes. She can't decipher his look, his face remarkably controlled. He looks much like his father, having the same bright blue eyes, body build, and spiky golden blond hair. His hair style though separates them, as the front concentrates the spikes on the right side of his head as if windswept, and the back is smoother and flakier. They both wear the black trousers of their guild, and from Roxas' shoulders hangs a black cloak that puddles at his feet. A too-long sword hangs from one side of his belt, a dagger from the other.

"I know you are bright," Cloud says. "But the life we live is twisted, and we are forever surrounded by liars and betrayers. You must trust your instincts, and learn to listen to not just what is said, but what is not. Can you do this? Can you view men and women as if they are pieces to a game, and understand what must be done, my son?"

His blue eyes meet his father's, and then he speaks the words that seal her fate.

"Yes, Father." He says.

Roxas steps towards Yuffie. His blue eyes are calm, unworried. In a single smooth motion, he yanks his dagger from his belt, flips it around, and thrusts it to the hilt in Yuffie's neck. Lexaeus steps back, jaw hanging open, but he wisely holds his tongue. Roxas withdraws the dagger, spins around, and presents it as a gift to his father.

Cloud places a hand on Roxas' shoulder.

"You did well, my son." He says. "My heir."

"Thank you." Roxas bows low as behind him the body of Yuffie bleeds out on the grass.

Roxas takes one torch, Lexaeus the other. They walk away from the forest, toward the western gates.

The torches fade away and then die.


	2. Chapter 1

_5 Years Later_ . . .

Roxas leads the way with Lexaeus as they head to the location given to by his father. They both were wearing the grey cloaks of the guild. Much of Roxas' outfit is new, from the soft black leather of his boots to the faded trousers and the thick grey tunic with plate mail. He is most proud of the sword that swings from his hip, a polished Swiss saber thirsty for blood and sharpened just for him. All courtesy of his father for his turning eighteen.

"My father has assigned me to do the talking. So say nothing, not even if you are directly addressed." Roxas says to Lexaeus.

Lexaeus is the largest member of their guild, or of any guild; and his father most trusted advisor. He doesn't trust many people, part of being his father's fault. He has very angular and strong features, with a square chin, straight nose, and sharp cheekbones. He has blue eyes and small eyebrows. His hair is ginger and slicked back into rather odd, messy spikes.

Roxas maneuvers smoothly the dark streets. Morning is fast approaching, but until then the city will be still empty and quiet. The few men about them have their own business to attend to, and hide, so the son and lackey are left along to wander.

"What if you demand I speak?" Lexaeus asks. Roxas glances back at him, looking bewildered.

"Why would I?" he asks.

Lexaeus nods, his face flushing red.

They continue down the streets, which Roxas names off as they pass, as well as what guild lay claim to them.

"Father says that our territory is never something to give up lightly." Roxas speaks.

"Yes, every home, every run-down business, brings us profit. The businesses pay us protection money so we will not rob their stores." Lexaeus explains. "The street women give us coin for the privilege of using out streets. The people buy out drugs, supply us with recruits, and provide simple prey for our younger members in training."

Roxas snickers. "Every thief guild in Twilight is trying to build an empire, and the one thing an empire needs more than anything else is land."

"You speak as if we're at war with the other guilds. What does that make the Bastion?" Lexaeus quizzes.

Roxas crosses his arms, his look hardening. Remembering back to the day his father told him about the world he was about to enter, understand the bridge he was crossing.

"In time we'll crush the leader of the Bastion. We'll scatter their wealth to the four winds, and a dozen other lords and ladies will scramble like dogs to pick up the pieces. In that chaos there will be so much for us to take, so much profit to be made." Roxas states. "The other guilds with be competing with us for that wealth."

"Your father has taught you well. And you learn quickly." Lexaeus complements.

"The other guilds are not our friends. No thief guild, not the Sharks, the Lions, the Wolves . . . no one is to be trusted. They are allies now, united only by a common foe. When that foe dies, every truce is broken. A new war will be upon us, and it will be one we must win, no different from the one we face now."

"Never stop looking to the future, nor forget the past." Lexaeus quotes.

"The other guilds were our enemies. They will be our enemies again." Roxas assures.

They continue as the moon fades, the morning sun fast approaching. Before a large building marked with a sign painted entirely red, Roxas pauses and glances over his shoulder to Lexaeus.

"We approach a brothel." He says rather disappointed.

"You seem to know it and what goes on inside there, yet your tongue tells you lack experience." says Lexaeus.

True, the last time Roxas was here, his father merely showed him the outside and explained what happens in there. Truthfully speaking, this is rather the time he'll be on the inside.

Roxas looks to him with a placid face. "My father wants me, pure. No strong drink will touch my lips. No womanly flesh will my hands caress. No priest will sway my heart. Power is all that matters, power and the skill to keep it."

Lexaeus gazes at the boy. Still young with so much to learn, yet speaks with the sharp parlance of someone well beyond his years. "Men fear your father's name, Roxas. And they shall fear yours a hundred times more." Lexaeus says.

Roxas grins.

"When we get in, please try and control yourself." Roxas orders.

With morning close, the brothel is mostly empty. The woman have slipped into more comfortable clothing. No men linger drinking or chatting with the women before heading up to the more comfortable private rooms. The few who did remain fast asleep. When the sun rises over the walls of the city, the ladies will prod them awake and usher them home to their wives, children, or professions.

"Welcome Roxas." says a middle-aged woman with flaming red hair and matching lipstick. "You nor your father have graced us with your presence in far too long."

Red, the woman in charge here. His father said it helps to have a woman deal with the younger girls, plus her experience makes sure that they know how to do their jobs properly.

She smiles. "My, look at how you've grown. Much different from the young Skyes I once saw. Strapping, handsome, rugged."

Soon a few of the girls glance over and adjust their hair and face makeup.

"Well, you've come to the right place, Roxas. I have some younger girls, and they know how to be gentle so that . . ."

"Enough."

Roxas' word strikes her like a slap. Her lips close, and the joy leaves her eyes, replaced with a cool, calculated gaze.

"Very well. Why are you here?"

Roxas flashes her a dangerous smile.

Every brothel has someone like her. They are never fools, and they are always dangerous. They hear more than anyone else in this city. Men are stupid when in bed.

"Where is Wakka?" he asks. Red gestures towards a flight of stairs leading to an enclosed balcony.

"Leave your swords here," she says. "You don't need them if you're on business."

That dangerous smile on Roxas' face never changes.

"You are not one to give orders to me," he says. "And death by the sword is _always_ my business."

Lexaeus is surprised at how calm Red remains before such a glare. Roxas knows that she must be threatened often to be so calm. Either that, or she holds very little regard for her life.

"Upstairs then." She says. "You may keep your blades if you insist. I only repeat what Wakka tells me. You should know that."

Roxas dismisses Red as if she is a servant or slave, then goes up the stairs. Lexaeus follows.

Wakka is tall and muscled, with tan skin, brown eyes, and long reddish-orange hair styled into a coif and girted with blue headscarf. When Roxas enters the room, the man stands. His dolphin necklace swishing. He wears the uniform of his blitzball team, a yellow vest top cut away at the stomach, a yellow shoulder pad on his left shoulder, blue and yellow baggy trousers gathered above the ankle, brown wristbands with a blue and yellow armguard over the left arm, and open sandals.

Roxas can't help but wonder how such a man, who could pass for a respected jockey could run a brothel.

"Welcome, welcome." Wakka says, clapping his hands as if excited. He has been seated in a chair woefully small for his body. Behind him is a thick ornate railing, and beyond that a spectacular view of the city. "So good of you to join me in my humble establishment. The Bloodshot rarely gets company of your esteem, my great and powerful master of guilds."

The compliments flow like honey off his tongue and sound as natural as running water. Roxas feels that part of his question has been answered.

"I've come on business." Roxas says, his hands resting on the hilts of his swords. He leans forward just enough that the sides of his cloak hide the movements of his hands.

"Yes, of course, why else would such a noble man bother yourself with scum such as I? Why else would you dirty your hands with the doorknob of my wretched abode? Sit, please, I will not have you stand."

Roxas remains standing, but he nods at Lexaeus, who obediently sits down.

"I have looked over your books." Roxas says. His face is a cold mask. "Something is odd about them, Wakka. Perhaps you know what?"

"Odd?" Wakka says. His smile is grand, and he isn't even sweating, impressive for a man. Roxas watches him for all the signs of guilt he has been taught to look for. So far he sees none.

"Of course things should be a little odd," the man continues. "I run an odd place where men ask for odd things, gross things I wouldn't dare discuss. But my payments are in full. I dare not cheat, not when dealing with a man as frightening as you."

"It is your coin that intrigues me." Roxas says. "And how much you have paid."

"What could possibly be the matter?" Wakka asks. "At the risk of sounding proud, I pay more than any other brothel in this city! I know, for I hear the other owners whining, but I smile and think that I spend my money well for your father's protection."

"That is exactly the matter." Roxas says.

Roxas sees a tiny twitch at the right corner of Wakka's mouth. He's struck a chord.

"How is that the matter?" Wakka asks.

"I've compared your coin to that of the other brothels under my father's protection, as well as spoken with those whining owners who pay the Sharks and Lions. So tell me, Wakka . . . how does a pathetic little brothel like the Bloodshot manage to outperform much grander places like the Silk or the Drunken Sailor? Your women are no prettier, your beds certainly not cleaner. Tell me, do you have an answer?"

A drop of sweat. Roxas grins. Wakka has no answer to the questions. Before he can begin a wave of groveling and worship, Roxas holds up a hand and continues talking.

"For the past week I have had your building under watch. Most brothels have their men come to them, but you send out your girls to other places, drab places owned by men of no worth. But the men who own those places, or have loaned money to them . . ."

Lexaeus sees what Roxas is getting at, but something is missing, some piece. Wakka, however, clearly knows what the matter is. Lexaeus sees him grab a dagger strapped to his belt, the stop. He must have decided, wisely not to fight if things turned ill. He does not look like a man who can last long in a fight.

"My father strictly forbid selling whores to the Bastion." says Roxas, an icy edge to his voice. "All the other guilds have agreed, and you were no different. While the other suffer, you somehow thrive . . ."

"I charged any member of the Bastion triple," Wakka says. All false affection and worship is gone. He is pleading now. "I'm practically stealing from them. All that money I send to you, to help you. Gold spent on my girls is gold not spent on swords!"

Not even Lexaeus sees the next move coming. Roxas' hand catches Wakka by the throat and flings him back. He slams into the railing, which groans in protest. A kick knocks Wakka to one knee. Before he can cry out, the blade of a sword presses against his breast.

"My father's business is my business now. When I give an order, I expect it to be obeyed." Roxas says. "You broke your word to me, and my father. You succumbed to easy coin."

"I gave it all to you!" shouts Wakka. "Please, the girls needed work, and the Bastion was desperate! All of it I've given to you, I'd never cross you, I'd never . . ."

Roxas grabs Wakka's hand, presses it against the railing and them slams his sword down. The sound of flesh makes as it tears reminds Roxas of a butcher shop. As Wakka screams, Roxas tosses the hand off the balcony.

"I checked your books," Roxas says. "And I compared that to what my men saw coming and going. You did give nearly everything to me, the rest to the girls. That is why you live, Wakka. Now you listen closely. Are you listening?"

Wakka nods. He sits on his rump, his stump pressed tight against the folds of his stomach to stem the bleeding.

"I want the Bastion starved. I want them without drink, without drug, and without whores. They have made my life miserable, and I will do the same to them. Coin gains me nothing. Their suffering is all I want. Will you remember that the next time they send for your girls?"

"Yes, my lord." Wakka says. His hair jostles as he nods. "I'll tell Red. I'll remember."

"Good." Roxas cleans his blade on Wakka's shoulder and then turns to go.

"Thank you." Wakka calls out as Lexaeus steps in line after Roxas. "Thank you!"

They leave the stairs, Lexaeus glancing back only once. He prepares to ask another quiz question, but Roxas seems to have sensed it coming.

"I cut off his hand, yet he thanks me for not doing worse." Roxas says as they descend.

"That is the power you will one day command." Lexaeus adds.

"Let them think every breath of theirs is a gift, not from the gods, but from me."

"Do this, and you will become a god among them."

"Power is hurting a man without fear of retribution." Roxas says. That is the lesson Roxas learned.

Exiting the brothel, Roxas is surprised to see another young man waiting by the door. He bears the cloak of Roxas' guild, but Roxas doesn't let his guard down. Only when he sees the long gray bangs covering his face does Roxas relax.

"Master Roxas." Zexion says, dipping his head and rubbing together his fingers. Zexion has bright aqua colored eyes, though only his left one is clearly visible, the right one being covered by his long, layered bangs.

He steps out in front and pulls down his hood. His steel-blue hair sports messy bangs that completely cover the right side of his face, reaching about an inch or two past his chin.

On his left side, his bangs, though still rather long, are shorter than the right side, partially covering his ear. A few strands of hair fall over the exposed section of his face. The back of Zexion's hair is quite a bit shorter than the front.

"I have news for you. You're father wishes to see you." He speaks.

Roxas looks to him, then smirks. "Did the show seem suitable?"

"I'm sure you met his expectations. As always."

"What seems to be the problem?"

"He said he wishes to consult to you about a next attack in the village." Zexion transmits.


	3. Chapter 2

"Soon we'll be warping her out through the locks," Demyx chimes.

"_Weigh hey! Roll and go_!"

"Where the pretty young girls all come down in their frocks,"

"_To be rollicking Randy Dandy oh_! _Heave a pawl, oh Heave away! Weigh hey! Roll and go_! _The anchor's on board and the cable's all stored. To be rollicking Randy Dandy oh_!"

The crew sings the sea shanty as the ship rolls through the waves of the sea. Demyx, a man with cyan eyes and dirty blonde hair, the latter of which is quite distinctive, leads the men in the song as he strums a small lute in his lap. His feet propped up on a barrel, he leans against a canon and his voice fills the air.

The crew sings with joy in their hearts as a wind inflates the sails. Ventus rests against the wooden railing of the upper level of the deck where Xigbar is left in charge of the steering wheel.

His blonde hair billowing in the salty sea breeze, he gazes out at the deck and beyond the bowsprit. The sails flap and the men sing as they see the coastline to Twilight Town.

"Ah finally," Xigbar says as he steadies the wheel. His gold eyes flash with excitement. "Land approaches!"

"And a village waits to be looted." Luxord adds as he twirls a playing card in his fingers.

Luxord has electric-blue eyes that look out eagerly the horizon. His clean-cut platinum-blond hair made him appear rugged to the point where you wouldn't want to pick a fight with him, if you were smart. His notably British accent in the English translation, furthers his air of sophistication.

Xigbar, with his pointed, elf-like ears exposed orders the men to lower the sails as he makes a steady right. With his unusual upturned eyebrows, Ventus always thought he was intimidating or always scolding. He also has two visible injuries on his face; the first being a damaged right eye covered by an eyepatch, while the other is a large jagged scar extending from his left cheek and dies in the unremitting darkness of his left eye.

Ventus can't say he was all that pleased when Xigbar walked around with his wounded eye exposed as a show for his viewers. Ventus only saw it once, but it was enough to stay in his mind up to now.

The pupil was milky white, the outer edges bloody. From his eye to his cheek, the inflamed scar overwhelms whatever handsomeness he might have had.

"I'll send word to the captain." Ventus volunteers as he takes three steps down the stairs and turns immediately left into the Captain's quarters.

He has to walk down a rather long corridor, passing all the shared bedrooms before reaching the captain's at the very end. The door is slightly ajar, the circular window ableing him to catch a glance of the captain sitting as his desk, hunched over a scrambling of parchment papers. Ventus does his curious triple tap on the door to catch the Captain's attention.

"Captian," Ventus softly speaks. "We're approaching land. The Twilight Town is in our sights."

"Excellent." The Captain praises. "We've arrived sooner than anticipated."

"Probably a good thing, the men are getting itchy." Ventus says as he enters further, waling over to a bay window seat, nestling on the cushioned bench poised next to the Captains desk. "Sometimes I fear their amusement crosses the line of humanity."

"Men are thirsty for excitement once they've been in their first battle." The captain quotes. "They savor it like a fine wine."

Ventus chuckles and shakes his head. Gazing at his Captain, he can't help but still be mesmerized by his youthful features as he was the first day they met.

The man has naturally fair skin with rosy hues. Under the lip of his tricorn, pulled back by a black bandana, is his mass of thick, shoulder-length, bright red hair styled into slicked-back spikes. Several strands of the hair have been weaved in with beads and small ribbons. Under his eyes are two reversed-shaped teardrop tattoos. He wears a white blouse with sleeves that puff at the wrists before turning into a ruffled lace cuffs. Over that he wears a dark blue sleeveless trenchcoat; the back draping behind him with ragged edges, showing off his share of battles. Buckles cross over his torso and wrapping around, connecting to the pistol holsters at his waist, along with a small dagger with a bejeweled hilt. From there he wears green trousers laced with pockets, tucked inside thick black boots.

His hands, with their long, delicate fingers work with a small metal compass, the needle point sticking to the paper as the end holding a small pencil traces along the paper in a perfect half-circle. Ventus has never seen a man with hands like his, beautiful but still masculine.

"You speak of the men, but what of yourself, Captain Axel?" Ventus asks.

The Captain looks up to him, his eyes, cold and calculating like the concentrated color of pale jade gaze at him.

"The men have their needs, and I have mine. Of which I like to keep private, young man." Axel speaks.

Ventus nods, hoping his reddening cheeks aren't noticeable.

As Captain Axel stands and stretches, he gazes at his first mate. While the boy is young, his adventures and experience ages him far beyond his years. Yet he bears the face of pure and innocence. His yes captivate a sense of wonder.

As his sapphire eyes look out to the sea, his gold blonde hair softly ripples in the drafts of the room. His longsleeve, sandy-colored tunic is one size too big for him; the sleeves having to be rolled up twice and the hemline stopping just mid-thigh. His brown trousers have to be rolled up at least three times before he could stuff them into his worn brown leather boots, the leather molding to his feet and no doubt pinching his toes. The small dagger Axel gave him when he was first promoted to First Mate, is strapped to his waist.

The boys has quite deceiving looks that could be a huge benefit in battle, but since he's joined the crew, he's never been one to fight until he absolutely needs to. While the crew hackles him about being soft, Axel actually finds it refreshing to have a shipmate that has morals.

"Come, Ventus." Axel ushers the boy out of the cabin and the two mount the steps up to the deck.

The men's singing has ceased as they prep the sails and men proceed to hide their weapons and try to make themselves look presentable for the general public. Men sort their hair, try to rid themselves of their bodily odor and wash their faces.

"I still don't understand why we explore the village before raiding it, Captain." Ventus asks as he and Axel join Xigbar at the wheel.

"Well, you don't just charge into the sea sailing without knowing the weather do you?" Axel riddles.

"No I suppose not."

"This way we know what stores are worth our time, what places the women are and where to where the mead and ale is stashed." Axel reminds.

"Yes Captain."

"Isn't Twilight Town the home of many thieves' guilds?" Demyx asks as he comes up the steps hauling extra ropes, his lute slung on his back.

"It is?" Ventus questions.

"Yeah," Demyx continues. "despite it's clean streets, fine wine and women, it's said that the guilds have marked their streets with their symbols and stuff."

"And it's not just rooted in one part of the city." Luxord chimes as he slides down the shrouds, his boot clapping against the deadeye. "I heard the richer districts are home to the more, powerful guilds."

"Really." Ventus' voice quivers.

"I don't pay you men to gossip about guilds that are none of our concern." Axel suddenly barks.

"They will be when we enter the city." Luxord reminds.

"Until one of my men lies dead at the hands of a thief, I'll consider it. Until then, they're nothing more than peasants with improved pickpocketing skills." Axel emphasizes. "Now get back to work!" The men carry on and Axel goes over the Ventus, placing a hand on his shoulder. "If you don't want to go into the city you don't have to."

"I'll be fine." Ventus says.

"The men will believe anything until the proof is in front of them. Or their logic decides to kick in." Axel amuses.

Ventus nods and gives a smile. Though Axel can still tell though that Ventus is troubled. Still, he leaves the boy to take the wheel while Xigbar aids Vexen, a man with bright green eyes that always seem to have a calculating expression. His platinum blond hair worn long with two slightly shorter bangs whip in the wind as a wave crashes into the side of the boat. Hauling a set of ropes, Xigbar comes to help and together they heave.

As Axel steadies the wheel, he can't help but gaze at his ship. The sails are tattered and dirtied, which wouldn't seem so strange is the ships he sees on the horizon didn't have spit and polished sails as fresh as daisies in the spring. Their usual cover is a cargo ship docking in from getting lost of track. Usually they don't have to pay a fee, but when the time comes, they usually have to bargain with the keeper. Times have been tough, and Axel knows that soon with the way they're headed, he won't be able to pay the crew soon.

He needs coin.

He can only thank the gods that the men never seem to mind looting a city of their valuables, still they demand pay for their usual chores, even if it's all going to be wasted on whores. And while Axel's intimidation seems to keep in track, it won't be enough.

Axel tries to swallow the anxiety as he pulls the ship into port.

* * *

Roxas learned at a young age how to choke down his curiosity. Any time he went somewhere with his father, he was never told where they were going or for what purpose, at least not until they were almost there.

This particular task he follows his father on is already different from the others, further inciting his curiosity. They move in daylight instead of a night.

Roxas would ask his father about the risk of getting recognized as they near the more populous parts of the city. But Roxas can see a crowd as they approach. They are one of many and he won't give anyone reason to suspect otherwise. More and more merchants are lined up on the sides of the streets. They wear both their cloaks of the Shadow Guild. The bounty on their heads doesn't even last a night, and not at all according to the castle records. Still, being reckless is not something Cloud is known for. They both keep their hoods low, and have charcoal across their faces.

Cloud had hammered into Roxas the importance of not acting scared or in a hurry. They merely go on their way, not rushing, nor dwelling. They are on a job and very few would be stupid enough to interfere.

"I've never met our target," Cloud says, talking casually as if about the weather. "Watch for a tall man with grey hair and beard and blue robes. He'll be attracting a crowd, most likely."

Roxas watches, not convinced he'll be much use considering they're in a sea of people. Like all missions, though, he throws his entire concentration behind the task.

Soon he spots a severe-looking old man with long, grey hair, bushy eyebrows, and a long, grey beard that parts down the middle.

"There." Roxas says, nodding ever so slightly to the east. Cloud follows his eyes. A crowd has gathered near a gap in the various merchant stalls. A few are jeering from the outer limits, but most are watching with rapt attention. Those closest to the center clap and cheer.

In the center of the crowd is their target. He wears a conical sorcerer's hat on his head. The hat is blue and decorated with several yellow stars and a yellow crescent moon. Long, billowing blue robes with sky blue lining drape around him. The whites of his eyes are quite large in comparison to his small pupils, something that is further highlighted by the fact that his eyes are often wide open. Whatever show he is giving appears intense, yet he smiles while doing it.

"What's his name?" Roxas asks when he realizes his father has stopped to watch.

"Yen Sid. Master, Yen Sid." Cloud says.

Roxas feels his body ripple with goose skin of excitement. "The master sorcerer to the king?"

"Yes, now be silent."

Roxas turns back to Master Yen Sid as he preaches and appears to be doing, at first from single curiosity, then more and more because of the sorcerer's sheer oratory skill. People gossip saying he's a powerful sorcerer, second to none. He even tutored the King in magic. From conjuring up skies full of beautiful butterflies to parting an ocean, Yen Sid's feats of wizardry are...well, amazing. His name alone fills some folks with awe.

He has shown the ability to teleport, create illusions while, and create cosmic smoke to locate a person. He seeks counsel with the stars to predict the conditions of the present and the future, which allows him to gather information about the worlds' condition and to pass it on to his allies.

"Night and day we bemoan the fate dealt to us." Master Yen Sid shouts. "How many of you fear walking the streets at night? How many of you bite your tongue for fear of earning poison in your wine or death inside your bread?"

Yen Sid points to a small girl behind him. She appears no older than eleven, and she blushes at the sudden attention.

"I fear for my granddaughter. I fear she might not have the life she deserves. How many of you have granddaughters, daughters and sons that have entangled themselves into the thief guilds' lies? How many have trade decency and conscience for a dab of food and a glut of blood? Do you mourn for them, mothers? Do you pray for them, fathers? Do you know what those prayers accomplish?"

Someone has placed a small pail before him, and all throughout his preaching men and women toss the pail, scattering the coins throughout the crowd. Only a handful stop for them. The rest stand enraptured. They all expect an explosion of sound and rage, but instead, Master Yen Sid's voice falls to a stage whisper.

"Nothing, for we do nothing. We are afraid."

A murmur slips through the crowd. Yen Sid lets it spread as he turns and accepts and drink from his granddaughter. He hands it back, wipes his lips, and then turns to the crowd. His boisterousness suddenly returns.

"Afraid? Of course we're afraid. Who wants to die? You might think me mad, but I like this meager existence we call living. But the only reason the guilds and the Bastion bathe our streets in blood is because _we let them_."

"We turn our blind eyes to underhanded dealings. We keep still tongues about guards we know takes bribes. We fill our own pockets with sinful gold and bloodied silver, but hard coin is an ill pillow. Can you sleep at night? Do you hear the gods' voices whispering for something better, something more? We deny righteousness in fear of our own safety, and in doing so forfeit the future of our children. We let them live in a dead tomorrow because we fear bleeding for it today. The gods call you! He longs to forgive you! Weill you accept it? Will you help remove the darkness from out city and let in the blessed light?"

This strikes Roxas and his lip instantly snarls. He reaches for the hilt of his sword, but his father's voice instantly arrests him still. "Patience, son."

"I would like to kill him." Roxas almost growls as he lowers his hand and let his hand falls.

"As would I. But not now, it would impolite."

Turning back to the sorcerer, Roxas doesn't fight the snarl twitching at his lip. Men and women surge forward, crying out for healing and prayers, Cloud shakes his head.

"He is too dangerous to live." Cloud says, glancing over to Roxas.

They are about the same height and with his age, normally young children need to wear a band about their arm. With Roxas the age of a man, he wears a cloak, hiding his distinctive blonde hair.

"This city needs to be warned what this high-minded drivel will earn them." Roxas evilly grins.

"Faith has its place, and that place is far from us." Cloud says. "I've waited too long as it is to kill him, so the message must be a strong one. We are spilling real blood."

"Handle Delius first," he says. "Kill his girl next. Return to the safe house when you escape."

Roxas nods, fingering the dagger Cloud had given him. He looks back for amusement and finds his father already gone.

Roxas slips deeper into the crowd, nearing the front. Yen Sid is kneeling near the center, his hands on the side of an elderly woman. Both are crying. The scene feels strange and alien to Roxas. He has never been to any religious ceremonies before, let alone a spontaneous one broken out in the streets. The fervor of the people's prayers is sickening. He watches as Master Yen Sid cups his hands over one another, then opening them up, at the center of his palm is a pink lily flower, its petals fading from pink to white at the center.

He sees the girl standing behind her grandfather. A cold knot grows in his stomach. The crowd doesn't pay mind to him as he gently nudges his way through. Most would assume he wants to be closer. He slowly works his way towards where Yen Sid prays.

It doesn't occur to him until he's up front that he realizes the significance of killing the King's expert sorcerer.

The Underworld knows no mercy. Their reputation and influence will spread like wildfire during a dry season.

The professional part of his mind knew the easiest time to kill Yen Sid's granddaughter would be in the chaos after he strikes.

She is so pretty, with red hair as fiery as a blaze of coals. Whenever she smiles, huge dimples grow on her cheeks. Perhaps once her father is dead, killing her will be an act of kindness given all the men that will chase after her. A young girl with a face like hers, it's bound to catch up to her badly in the further years.

He reaches the front, pulling his mask down.

"Father," he shouts. "Father, please, pray with me!"

Roxas has to fight the vicious predator inside him as he calls the man father. No one as weak as him deserves the title of being father, at least since Roxas already has a father. One who is far more proud and worthy of godly title.

Roxas is directly next to Yen Sid. The man smiles at him and takes his hands. Roxas struggles not to pull away, as anyone in junction with the Bastion is ranked below parasites as for thins he wants in contact with his skin. The man's hands are surprisingly callus and dry for someone who spends their time hunched over dusty old tomes, waving hands over black cauldrons with bubbling smoke.

He kneels beside him, and Roxas bends his head as if in prayer. They are huddled together, seeming somehow intimate and private although a massive crowd is gathered around them.

Yen Sid's body shudders.

His head snaps back. Roxas takes another dagger, one with a serrated edge, grabs Yen Sid's beard and slices at his throat. His body collapses on his side, the hilt of Roxas' dagger sticking out of his chest.

Shocked screams of two nearby women alert the rest. The whole crowd fumes. Roxas, blood covering his hands and the front of his plate mail, held out in his hand like a gift, is the head of Yen Sid. Men turn this way and that, shouting yet none advance forward.

Cloud choses that moment to leap to the front, standing on a small stool that Yen Sid sat upon at times when he preached. He is already a tall man, and the stool makes sure that the guildmaster towers over the rest. He puts his fingers to his mouth and whistles sharply. More gasps filter through the crowd as people realize who he is, and in turn, who Roxas is.

Roxas grabs a wooden pole, stabbing it into the ground. His one hand casually rests on it, his other hand still holding the head of Yen Sid. By now his eyes have hardened into the far seeing gaze of the dead, losing their color. Roxas looks to the granddaughter and smiles at the horrified expression on her face. Twin paths of tears run down her cheeks. When her lower lip quiver, she feels the cold stone in his gut turn into a blade.

"This fate," Cloud shouts, gesturing to the dead, decapitated body, "belongs to any who dare turn against the rightful rulers of this city."

Roxas takes the cue and jabs the head onto the top of the plank. Blood begins to slink down the post.

"Keep your righteousness out of our shadows. It has no place there." Cloud then turns and jumps. His hands catch the top of the wall and flips him over, deeper into the trade districts of Twilight Town.

The crowd explodes. Furious shouts coupled with heartbroken wails.

Roxas snatches a cloth from the body and wipes his hands clean. He turns to the girl, who stands immobilized by her fear. He legs quiver and Roxas thinks that the moment she tries to run, they'll collapse beneath her. Roxas grins at her; pulling out his bloodied serrated dagger and spinning it between his fingers.

"So, what do you say sweetheart?" Roxas purrs as he begins to walk towards her. "How about a little game of cat and mouse?"

Then the girl turns and runs. Roxas licks his lips, if there's one thing he loves, it's the chase.

Sensing the danger, Roxas whirls and stabs an approaching man in the throat and flings his body into the crowd to keep them distracted. Turning back around, he bolts after the girl. He didn't know where she was headed, or for what purpose. Perhaps she just assumed that she could get enough distance between them. Perhaps she only wants to get away from the massive crowd of strangers and back to what might remain of her family.

She takes a sharp turn and Roxas skids around, then leaps up atop the cloth stalls, sliding, leaping and flipping, he keeps on her trail. He loads his hand full of daggers and teasingly throws them so they intentionally miss, but cause the girls to stumble and stagger.

Roxas leaps down from a tent awning and continues his pursuit. As he closes in on the girl, he know why she had taken this route. Because of all the people, she would assume that they would al stop or try to slow Roxas' perusing.

But nothing happens. No says anything or do anything; because what she doesn't know is that this street is territory of his guild. In fact, the crowd practically parts for him as the sprints through the market.

She turns down a small alley in between two bakeries. The air smells of yeast and flour. The girl ducks behind a large refuse container and doesn't reappear. Roxas realizes she didn't care she was being chased. She just wanted to be alone.

His dagger sheathed, Roxas steps around the corner of the bin and sees the girl.

She sits with her back to the wall, her head buried in her knees, arm wrapped around her legs. Tears wet her dress and face. Her eyes are closed. Roxas can't believe what he was hearing. She is praying.

"Please, dear gods," he hears her say. "Please, please oh god, please . . ."

Roxas draws his dagger, never making a sound. He gets a firm grip on it. She would by no means be his first kill. All his victims flash before his eyes, from assassins to guards to other guild members. All have bene armed. All have lived a violent life. There is something about donning a thief's cloak or soldier's helmet that makes death forever possible.

Roxas smirks. "If you're trying to guilt me with using payers," Roxas sees her raise her head, her skin paling at the sight of Roxas' dark attire. "you should know it's not working."

The girl's eyes widen and her lips quiver.

"Don't you know prayers don't work on the faithless?" Roxas purrs.

The girls breaks down into a sob and huddles into herself once more. Roxas comes closer, and crouches before her. She nearly jumps up, slapping her head into the brick behind her. The tip of Roxas' dagger taps at the toe of her one show. Her breathing quickens as she inhales.

"Oh no, no, no. Hush child." Roxas coldly coos. His face a sick parody of mirth. He takes the tip of his dagger and traces it lightly down the girls face, starting at her temple and ending to the tip of her chin. The cool metal sends goose skin across her limbs and numbs her body as if it compares to the cold winter snowstorms. "The darkness will carry you down into sleep."

"Why must I die?" she bravely asks with a quivering tone. "What have I ever done? Why would I die? For nothing."

"It's demanded." Roxas answers. He sees a small shift in her, probably thinking that she can buy herself some time before he kills her, opening to extract some kind of escape plan.

"Only demanded by your father's desire. You're becoming nothing more than an extended will of him."

"You will not speak ill of my father, girl." Roxas presses the tip into the skin of her chin, causing a drop of blood to pool out. "But it does raise an interesting question. What happened to you parents?" He asks.

The girl looks to him in bewilderment, and is momentarily shocked at the beautiful blue of his eyes. Despite their brilliant sapphire color, like ice, they freeze her in place. "Why do you care?"

"I don't." Roxas says, and he takes the knife and spinning it, places the blade just behind her left ear. He watches as it flushes red from the blood roaring in the girl's ear. Her pule thumping in her chest. "But you should tell me anyway."

The girl's breathing is shaky as she inhales through her mouth. She swallows thickly. "They're dead." Roxas raises his eyebrows, but his eyes don't widen in surprise or shock like most people would. More like he's curious, almost like he's studying a rat running through a maze, and it just discovered a secret passage. "My mother was killed, cut down in the street by my real father."

"Real father?"

"My mother was a mistress. My father, abusive. She couldn't leave him, but her "job" let her meet other men." The girl describes. "He let us stay with him. Kept us safe. Loved us both. But after her death, he kicked me out. Said I wasn't good for anything. My father died where we all knew he would. At the bottom of an ale bottle."

"Hmm." Roxas hums as he gazes unblinking at the girl.

"Please, let me go. I have, enough to live for." The girl begs. Her eyes water once more, and Roxas takes the tip of the blade and uses it to catch a tear that streams down her cheek. His whole act of conversation is agonizingly tortuous, and she wishes he would just kill her now.

"I can't do that. In fact, you should be thankful to me." Roxas says.

"What?"

"With your grandfather gone, and relatively no one else that you've told me about to be around, killing you will be an act of kindness." Roxas retracts his blade and stands. He begins to pace in front of the girl, and she doesn't make a slight move to escape. "With someone with beauty such as yours, it will catch up to you in a bad way as your years progress."

Roxas continues to pace, his dagger gleaming in the sunlight as it twirls from finger to finger, winking at her causing her to squint.

"Don't worry girl, you will join your grandfather soon. Or . . ." Roxas pauses, long enough for the girl to look to him. "I can give you a second chance."

"What?" she breathes in surprise.

"I can kill you, right here and right now, or . . . you can come and join my guild."

The offer surprises the girl, and she shifts to a more, relaxed position. Her legs extending out, but still slightly bent.

"And abandon my grandfather's beliefs and causes? I know you must've heard him."

"Yeah and now look where it's gotten him." Roxas says so casually it hurts the girl to the core; how could he not feel any remorse? But the gain he is the son of Cloud. And Cloud seems to have worked too well at raising him. "You're fate is in my hand now. The choice is yours, either way I don't care so long as I get the job done."

The girl thinks of the coins rattling inside her perfume jars as allowance from her mother. It is a pittance compared top Cloud's wealth. Accepting might mean death, but the position is an incredible . . . honor. As well as potentially lucrative in a way street rats could only have dreamed of.

But she is not a street rat. And she will not disappoint her grandfather that way. He had strong beliefs, and she will honor them.

"I will die as my own. And not at the minion of a monster." She finally answers.

Roxas' shoulders slightly drop, but his face remains neutral. When he speaks, his tone is as cold as ice, and it shivers her to the bones.

"Well that, is very disappointing."

He turns and begins to walk away, and the girl momentarily thinks she is free, yet know better.

In on smooth motion, Roxas whips out a hidden pistol crossbow and whirls around. The last thing he sees is the wide-eyes of the girl as Roxas aims the crossbow at her forehead.

Roxas gives her a cold glares and fires.


	4. Chapter 3

Ventus follows the Captain Axel as they walk off the ramp and onto the deck, docked with other ships coming in. The crew follows behind, tugging at their collars and cuffs to make sure they look decent enough for the public presentation.

Demyx and Zexion immediately stick together while Luxord and Xigbar go on alone. As Axel leads the crew he feels fingers brush his shoulder, and instantly shudders in annoyance as Marluxia passes by him.

"What have I told you about self-control, Marluxia." Axel states in a cautious reminder.

Marluxia is a tall elegant man with feminine features. His hair was shoulder length and rose pink with ruffles. He had blue eyes and his lips are a pale pink. With such features, his deception is enough to qualify for the title of thief. The only reason be joined the life of a man at sea is due to the standard living conditions of thieves. Apparently he claims he's too, fragile for such harsh condition as living in the sewers, yet he'll settle for sailing on a ship for days without much showering and scarce coin.

"Remembers men, Axel reminds." We're here on business, and nothing more. We meet back at the ship at twilight."

The crew men nod and aye to him before dispersing. They scatter towards different directions and alley that lead North, West and East. Venus is the only one left with the captain as they reach the Square of the city.

The marketplace is brewing with people mingling at stalls, entering and leaving stores with brown bags filled with foods and clothes, children playing around an in-ground mosaic of the kingdom; a clock tower with two bells on either side of it, mimicking that of a scale seen in courtyards.

The fresh smell of fruit and baked goods filled the men's nostrils and their mouths flood with saliva. Ventus walks up to a baker's stall, not too far from the assumed store and peeks over the shoulder of a woman just finishing packing her things. The man hosting the stall, balding and middle-aged, his hands white with flour and apron splattered with plots of yeast, looks up and smiles at Ventus.

"Welcome boy, how may I serve you today?" he asks.

"Oh, I'm just looking." Ventus smiles back.

"Perhaps something for you mate there?" the men gestures over Ventus' shoulder to Axel standing with his hands in his pockets, keeping a distance like a parent would watch their child.

"Oh, no he doesn't care for sweets." Ventus replies.

"Well, just so you know, I'm starting to sell my infamous heart-shaped cookies for the holiday of Sweetheart Day." The man picks up the dough and slaps it to the wooden board, smearing it more with flour.

"Sweetheart Day? Oh! Oh dear no, sir, you misunderstand. I'm not _with_ my Captain." Ventus quickly defends. His mind piecing together the strange hints, feels his cheeks flush with heat and he knows he's probably tomato red.

"Oh my mistake, but still they have quite the packing taste in them should you still be interested." The man finishes as he takes a metal cookie cutter in the shape of a heart and stamps it into the dough.

"I'll keep it in mind." Ventus smiles as he turns away and heads towards the Captain.

Axel has a small smile on his lips as Ventus approaches, and Ventus know for sure he's probably red. "What did the man say?" Axel chuckles.

"He was trying to sell me some cookies, and thought that I should get some for you." Ventus nearly mumbles, too embarrassed by the Captain's reaction.

Surely enough the Captain bursts into laughter and slaps the young blonde's back. "Oh that is rich. Quite the funny man. Come on lets continue on."

Ventus keeps his head low as he continues to walk by the Captain's side as they venture further around the marketplace. They spot Xigbar by a strangely colored tavern with the most peculiar name. The Silk. Ventus thought it was a rather puzzling name as the women barley have any silk on at all, let alone any kind of clothing besides voluptuous garters and lace teddies. Axel instantly places a hand on Ventus' shoulder and harshly steers him away from the sight.

"What is that place?" Ventus asks the Captain, who keeps his gaze ahead.

"A very dirty tavern." Is all he answers with.

Ventus decides to let it be, not even looking back as they continue up the south roads.

Axel feels bad about keeping the boy so closed minded, even at the age of eighteen; an age of which he should know of some things, but Axel finds it refreshing to have such an innocent minded crewmen aboard, he doesn't want to ruin it. Still at the same time it is embarrassing to have such a boy of age know little about brothels and sex and the much darker sides of towns. Not everything is as Ventus pictures it, and he knows this, but the boy has yet to spill blood, or even draw his dagger. He could rely easily on Marluxia to educate him, maybe even Xigbar, but the thought of them talking with Ventus about such things makes Axel queasy at the thought of what they could expose him to.

They round a corner and find a crowd gathered around. What it is, they cannot see. Axel lets go of Ventus' shoulder and tries to peek over.

"What's happening?" Ventus asks.

"I'm not sure. Probably a side show." Axel assumes.

He can hear the crowd murmuring and whispering. The intake of breath from the gathering crowd, the sound of men hackling, and a shrill cry. It's clear his assumption was right. It's clear something's up the crowd's too thick to see. Then as Ventus begins to approach, Axel spins around and begins pushing Ventus back.

"Get back." He barks.

"What? Sir, what's wrong?"

"Just go! We need to get out of here."

Strongly, Ventus didn't want to leave. The screams, yes terrified him, but he wanted to see what caused it. He didn't want to be procured as innocent. He knows that Captain sees him that way, and despite the advantages it grants him, he wants to be treated as a crew member rather than child. So, with dread polling in his stomach, Ventus pushes his way away from Captain Axel and through the crowd. Axel is panicked. Somehow the crowd see Ventus and think of him as a boy no longer past the age of twelve and begin to stop him. Hands shove him back. Voices hiss.

"Get out of here, boy."

"This is not for you!"

Their voices are cut off by a strangling cry.

Ventus' heart is beating so fast and fierce. He makes it to the front, his thoughts are right.

A boy, probably a year older than Ventus, stands tall and proud with blood smattering, splattered and smeared all over his uniform and cloak. In his hand he holds a severed head, a small piece of white bone sticking out from the bottom, blood dripping like how it would off of wet clothing. His hood covers his face, concealing his features except for a gruesome smile of pleasure on his lips.

The body of the head, it's decorated in robes of blue and a hat is rolled off to the side, lies slump. For a moment, Ventus can see small wisps, nearly invisible to the eye, as they billow up from the body like steam. No one seems to notice, all too focused on the head the young man holds. Then suddenly there's a whoosh of air and Ventus jerks his head up to see a tall man, dressed in the same garb as the boy stand atop the box. He towers over the crowed and almost makes Ventus want to shrivel up into himself and hold himself at the ominous feeling he gets from the man. Still with a hood, small bits of blonde hair poke out from underneath.

"This fate," the man shouts, gesturing to the dead, decapitated body, "belongs to any who dare turn against the rightful rulers of this city."

His voice booms so loud and Vents flinches as it rings into his ears. At the sight of the body, and the boy holding the head like noth8ing more than a burlap sack makes Ventus want to vomit.

As the man finishes, the boy takes a wooden pike and sticks it in the ground, then without waiting, impales the head atop, the flesh making a horrid sloshing sound as the boy wriggles it to stay. Ventus is immobilized by fear and sickness.

"Keep your righteousness out of our shadows. It has no place there." The man finalizes and then turns and jumps. His hands catch the top of the wall and flips over out of sight.

The crow almost immediately panics and explodes into a horrid chorus of wails and screams and sobs. People scurry like cockroaches past Ventus, knocking into him, but with his foot practically rooted into the ground, he doesn't fall nor budge.

Ventus watches as the boy stabs an advancing man in the neck, slicing at his jugular before effortlessly flinging his body into the crowd. He watches as the boy turns to a girl, a beautiful one with red hair and soft doe-like eyes full of fear. He says something to her that's drowned out by the crowd, then the girl turns and runs, and Ventus was about to see him pounce and give chase, but Axel's hand roughly grabs his shoulder and turns and yanks him away.

Ventus doesn't fight, but fears his legs will collapse as they begin to move. They flow normal, one foot in front of the other, but Ventus can feel himself, almost hollow. As if he has let behind a piece of himself that still watches the boy as he peruses the girl. A small bit of Ventus wants to stop him, but seeing the boy's ruthlessness, it fades as quickly as a wind blows out an ember.

Turning his head, Ventus sees Axel running in the direction of the mass of the crowd. He doesn't look back once, his hair flapping in the breeze and dodging people left and right as the once who weren't present try to push back to see where the commotion originated. Ventus looks around and finds a few of the people have gone into hiding in homes, shops or anywhere they can get off the street. People at stalls or stores look out windows or stop their business to see what's wrong.

Running on pure adrenaline, Ventus tries to ignore the feeling of nausea creeping in his stomach. He know he will pay later for seeing what it was he witnessed, and then breaking out into a full on sprint. But tries not to think about it as he's led down the street.

As Ventus continues to blindly follow the Captain, they begin to run past small narrow alleyways that soon come up on their left ad rights. Soon the scent of cinnamon, freshly baked bread, and spiced meat seeped to Ventus' nose, strangely causing his stomach to growl. When they pass the alley off to its right, Ventus' heart goes cold. He has to fight the bile that surges up in his throat.

The look was fast – only a few seconds – but it was enough to haunt him forever.

Lying on the cold, hard ground he can see a mangled body lying just behind a set of refuse containers. Her feet sticking out, her shoes are black but with small touches of crimson. Lying in a pool of her blood, it slides off her body, seeping into the puddle-gouged road. Ventus nearly slips, but doesn't dare look down.

In between her eyes, dead center is the shaft of an arrow.

Ventus barely makes it to the docks, where things have gone quiet from the commotion in the marketplace, before he needs to stop, hunching over clasping his hands to his knees and heaving for breath. Vomiting might actually be a relief. The adrenaline starts to finish its course through his body, and Ventus holds his stomach. He coughs to encourage it, but his stomach is empty.

Captain Axel, who appears only slightly winded despite the half mile run they did, asks, "Are you okay?"

Ventus can only shake his head to tell him the truth, and sits down on a crate, elbows to his knees, hands intertwined between. He huffs and takes deep breaths. His hands have grown cold so he presses them to his forehead and breathes. A part of him is proud at himself for seeing his first gore and not reacting the way others would expect him, plus his stomach is empty so he can't convulse up anything more than bile.

"I told you not to move." Axel reminds.

Ventus fists his hands in annoyance as the he waits for the Captain to start bragging about how he was right and how he knows best. And Ventus is ready to defy with how he shouldn't be treated as a child anymore, how he is eighteen and a full-fledged adult man. Then again, Axel is known to counteract this with treating him like another member of the crew, perhaps worse and saying he's lost certain privileges of being a man.

But still nothing happens. Instead, Axel brings him a tankard filled with water and a small hint of mint.

"Drink." He orders. "It'll help settle the stomach."

Ventus takes the drink gratefully, but hesitates at the thought of eating or drinking anything. Still when he takes the first sip, his body accepts it gracefully and he manages to slowly finish it.

There's a moment of silence, and Ventus is holding the tankard in his hand. As he goes to wipe his head, he finds his hands shaking. This is bad. His hands usually shake before he cries.

"I wanted to see it." Ventus then says. And Axel looks to him. Ventus meets his gaze and finds he's placed a cigarette in his mouth. A small stream of smoke wafts out. He raises an eyebrow at Ventus. "I just wanted to be, experienced."

Axel tilts his head to the side, still confused.

"I just . . . I'm not a child anymore. In the world, I'm going to be exposed to certain things. And I guess, I just wanted to prove I'm not a child."

"Well, you're doing better than I thought you did." Axel admits. "And I do suppose you had to be exposed to something like it sooner or later."

Axel takes on last drag on his cigarette, then he drops the butt to the floor, stomping it on the deck with the toe of his boot. Ventus can't fight a shudder as Axel opens his mouth and the smoke billows out in a small ring. As if dissipates, Axel blows out the rest of the smoke.

"I apologize if you ever felt like, weak or anything along those lines." He apologizes.

"Why did you want to, stop me from seeing things like that? I mean, why shelter me?" Ventus asks.

"Because, you have a special, thing about you. You're so innocent, and it's just so refreshing on a ship full of dirtied men, literally and metaphorically. I guess it was just refreshing so see someone, pure." says Axel.

Ventus can't help but redden at the compliment. True he had always assumed the Captain was friendlier to him for some reason he didn't care to explain, but the accolade is so genuine Ventus feels nearly guilty for soiling it. He wanted to be different to stop the teasing when really Axel wanted it preserved.

"I apologize, Captain, sir."

"As do I." Ventus looks to the Captain in surprise. "I'm sorry for making you feel like a child. And if you wish, I shall not coddle you, not anymore. When I take you, I will teach you with the truth, no matter how painful."

Axel puts a hand on Ventus' shoulder.

"Though you disappoint me with your pacifist, part of the blame is mine. From now on you will be at my side at all times. The life of a pirate is not safe, Ventus, as you will soon discover. But know that regardless of the risk, I will bring you with me."

"I'm not scared." Ventus says.

"Even I am sometimes afraid, as you will often see."

Ventus shakes his head.

"Scared or not," he says. "I'll never show it."

A foolish boast, one Axel has heard a thousand times. But looking at the child, seeing his resolve and courage, Axel knew without a doubt that he believes him.


	5. Chapter 4

Roxas clutches his right arm to his body, fighting to halt its trembling as he limps through the door. Blood runs from his shoulder to his elbow, the arm cut by a poisoned blade.

He staggers across the wood floor, through a sparsely decorated room, and up to a wall made of plaster and oak. Even with his blurred vision he locates the slight groove with his fingers. He presses down, detaching an iron lock on the other side of the wall. A small door swings inward.

Roxas collapses in a chair and removed his gray cloak. He sits in a much larger room painted silver and decorated with pictures of mountains and fields. Removing his shirt, he grits his teeth while pulling it over his wounded arm. The toxin has been meant to paralyze him, not kill him, but the fact is little comfort. Most likely the king wants him alive so he can sit in his chair and watch his "gentle touchers" bleed Roxas drop by drop.

After killing the granddaughter of Master Yen Sid, as Roxas was trying to make his way down the street towards the safe house, a practical armada of the King's men fired arrows at him from the windows as he passed. Managing to block and take cover, Roxas barely escaped as he ran through a series of alleyways before sliding into a manhole cover sealing it smoothly behind him.

To try and distract the pain, Roxas goes over the information of the Bastion and the Royal Garden's court.

For centuries the three families of the Bastion, the Oblivions, the Dominions, and the Departures, have ruled in the shadows. Over that time they've certainly bought enough priests and kings to believe that the god wouldn't be beyond the reach of their gilded fingers either. They meet every five years to hold a royal court, the Royal Garden Court. The event itself is beyond extravagant, with all members of each royal family is present for the occasion.

And it's his father who thought of the idea to unite all the guilds within the city of Twilight Kingdom and aim at the Bastion. Twilight Town being the hosting city for the Bastion this year.

Roxas' flight to the mansion was a blur ibn his memory. The toxin has numbed his arm and made his entire side sting with pain. His neck muscles had fired off at random, and one of his knees kept locking up during his run. Like a crippled he'd fled through the alleyways of the kingdom, but the moon was waning and the streets empty, so none had seen his pathetic stumbling.

"Roxas." he hears his father say from an adjacent door. Lexaeus emerges from the door first with his tomahawk in hand before seeing Roxas. He sheathes it immediately and helps Roxas to a chair.

"Where's Zexion? One of the Oblivion's men cut me down with a toxin, and its effects is . . . troublesome." Roxas says. Troublesome hardly describes it, but Ro9xas won't let his father know that.

"I'll fetch him. I assume your job is done?" Cloud asks.

Roxas merely grins cockily. "Of course. You should have had better faith in me by now, father."

"Take a rest." Cloud says, ignoring the bravado. "Lexaeus, aid his wound."

As Cloud leaves, Lexaeus turns his back to Roxas and opens a few cupboards until he finds a small black bottle. He pops open the cork, but when he moves to pour the liquid to the boys' cut, Roxas yanks the bottle out of his hand. Dripping the brown liquid across the cut, Roxas lets out a hiss through clenched teeth. It burns like fire, but already he feels the tingle of the toxin beginning to fade. When finished, he accepts some strips of cloth from Lexaeus and ties them tight around the wound.

"What's the word on the street?" Roxas asks.

"Word has already reached King Mickey, obviously. And it was quite the bob you exploded through the village. First the death of the King's master sorcerer, but then his own granddaughter."

"The Underworld has no mercy, and fears no man."

"Will you be okay for the riots through the streets to the mansion?" Lexaeus asks.

"If not I will still show." Roxas promises.

"For what purpose? Moral support?"

"The other Guild Masters have expectations of me, as my father. I'm sure he would expect no less for me." Roxas says.

"It may not be my place, sir, but it's not wrong to show signs of weakness. Sometimes even the best of thieves need to know their limits." Lexaeus gently suggests.

"Well until I know my limitations, then I shall stop." There's a moment of quiet as Roxas keeps his gaze to the ground. Then when he speaks, his voice is softer, lacking the razor edge it often has. "But I appreciate your concern."

Cloud returns with Zexion, clutching a book to his chest. He quickly walks over to Roxas and drops to one knee and bows his head without saying a word.

"When shall the guild masters meet?" Roxas asks.

"Midnight, tonight." Cloud replies as he takes a seat at the desk tucked in the corner with ruined books burned or soaked.

"All shall come?" Roxas asks ash Zexion waves his hands smoothly over his arm. He bites the inside of his lips as he can feel Zexoin drawing out the liquid of the arrow.

"If they want to live, yes. Saix will gather the guild masters until we arrive."

Roxas snickers. "He thinks himself as guild master whenever you leave him in charge despite his rankings."

"The man has false hopes."

"He doesn't respect me." Roxas says. "He thinks I'm an asshole, or stupid." There's the quiet humming of Zexion's haloed hands as he hover them over Roxas' arm.

"His underestimation will earn him much lower rankings of the guild. You are my son, Roxas. I promise you, after tonight, whatever contempt they have, they will swallow it down. Even the wealthiest king is still dirt in my eyes compared to my own flesh and blood, and I expect the same respect from them." Cloud says.

"The serum is out, but it's going to take a while for your arm to get better. I wish I could've worked on it sooner." Zexion says, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, me too. Thank you, Zexion." Roxas says.

"Dismissed." Cloud interjects.

Zexion bows to both the men and exits the room, not even sparing a glance at Lexaeus as he leans against the doorway, arms crossed, one foot propped against the wall.

"So, I assume with this meeting that Seifer is going to be there as well, to represent the Serpents?" Roxas asks.

"I understand your irritation, son, but with his father on the verge of death with sickness, we haven't much choice." Cloud says as he leans back in a more relaxed position.

"The boy only wishes to hold power, father. He doesn't deserve the respect his father holds to be disposed upon him." Roxas says.

"You misunderstand, son. The more Seifer feels he holds power, the more of a fool he presents himself to the other guilds. His ego and boasting is his way of gaining attention and false praise disguised as annoyance."

"Then why do we let him live? Surely one of his father's men will be of much better choice and respect than his son."

"A guild master never denies his flesh and blood unless deemed unworthy. And Seifer has spoiled his own son from the beginning by naming his heir after himself. The more the other guilds see how much better I've raised you, the more they will come to willingly accept the new King of out Underworld."

"I will never surpass you, father, but I shall try to uphold the guilds as well as you." Roxas says with a bow of his head.

"You are already ready son, now we must simply wait for the time to come." Cloud says as the corners of his mouth twitch up into a grimace of a smile. "Soon, this city will be enveloped in darkness, and you will be the King.

* * *

The men gathered out on the deck, Captain Axel at the upper rift of the stairs, standing next to Ventus, now dressed in a white tunic with a leather vest holding a small dagger along with a belt holding another of larger size and a short sword around his hip. The men chatter about the places they visited and how they spent their coin at the "exclusive gatherings".

Captain Axel approaches the wooden railing and places his hands on the cherry wood finish. The men fall silent.

"Alright men, the moon is full tonight, giving us the spotlight for the light as we raid this city." Axel starts, and the men cheer with anticipation of the night, howling like dogs. "Our name will be forever branded into its streets and it shall surpass the name of its thief guilds; for shall make our mark in fire!" Axel's hands go out automatically in front of him as if to indicate who it is that will be causing the destruction. "We shall leave a trail of flames in our wake! Show that no one from King to peasant is safe from our hands!"

Axel shouts, determined not to miss a single word. The men roar, their fists pumping the air and their shouts echoing across the ship. Ventus smiles as a few of them clap and holler the name of the ship. "_Burning Flames! Burning Flames! Burning Flames_!"

Ventus looks to the Captain and he looks back and smiles. Ventus can't help but laugh, and with his mood suddenly skyrocketing with adrenaline, he joins the shouting and raises his fist in the air.

The leaders of the thief guilds meet in a strange place for their kind: open air in broad twilight. They stand before the large clock tower in the very center of Twilight Kingdom. Any gathering of so many leaders needs to be somewhere neutral, with many exits, otherwise no one will come. Given the absolute chaos that erupted in the marketplace, traffic is almost nonexistent within the streets. As if infected with a massive plague, the whole city is emptied, people shut away in homes and shops as the night encloses upon its streets.

Cloud and Roxas are the first to arrive; Saix ordered to stand aside. Any delay on their parts might worry the others. Roxas catches a glimpse of Saix as he turns his head from side to side as if scoping the area.

Saïx has long, frayed blue hair framing his face, though slicked back in wild spikes at the top. Behind, it reaches down to his mid-back and is cut slightly neater. A distinctive trait of Saïx's is the X-shaped scar between his yellow eyes that extends to about halfway up his forehead in one direction and to just under his eyes in the other. He wears a single studded earring on each pointed ear.

Leon of the Lion Guild is next, looking stoic as ever with his long, brown hair and his distinctive scar, which runs diagonally across the bridge of his nose. Then comes Seifer and his son of the Serpents Guild. His son's full name being Seifer the Second, since he bears the name of his father. Roxas decided once long ago to call them Seifer One and Seifer Two. Also for their first and second generations to help him keep track. The Shark Guild still with its old leader Cid, and then Larxene of the Spider Guild.

She has bright, blonde hair is slicked back and about jaw-length, with two long strands styled into distinctive antennae-like strands. Her eyes are cyan and she is very slim with an hourglass figure when compared to other members due to her gender. She can be undoubtedly cold, ruthless, and uncaring, and appears to love nothing more than to bring other people down. Described the most as a domineering woman of strong personality, who does not ask but tells, she has sharp wit and sardonic remarks ready to spite others. Along with the callousness, however, she oddly displays childish and playful behavior. Her jokes tend to be more ill-humored as well, enabling anyone to successfully get irritated, and sometimes if pushed far enough, yell or charge at her in anger, a reaction which she seems to find humorous.

"Where's the wolf?" Leon asks as they stand about the tower, looking nothing more than a group of old friends gathering before joining festivities at the town's Summer Festival. So far the only significant player in the underworld yet to arrive is Terra, master of the Wolf Guild.

"He and his men are already scattered about the alleyways," Cloud explains. He keeps his back to the tower and the guild masters to his front. "They shall keep watch as we invade the mansions of the Bastion's members. Roxas will lead the men of the Serpents to the Oblivoin's mansion."

Seifer Two steps forward, unable to hide his annoyance. "You're going to have your unofficial heir in charge of such a huge responsibility and plan? We'd soon be better bowing before the Bastion in our ragged cloaks and all." Seifer's eyes are blue-green and his hair, partially visible under his hat, is blond.

"Oh well please, Seifer, be my guest. I'm sure with your successful leading experiences, you can surely step up to your father's reputation and lead his men." Roxas stonily replies.

"I detect sarcasm." Seifer Two snarls.

"It was my intention."

"At least the boy shows promise of bearing the responsibilities of leadership." Larxene suddenly defends. "And at least he has the good looks to boot." She looks to Roxas or Cloud and gives a wink; either way, both men reply with a roll of their eyes.

The other members grumble, none of them happy with being left at the hands of an eighteen-year-old. Roxas silences them by putting his hand on the hilt of his sword and booming his voice loud.

"Enough!" he says. "What's done is done, and if it weren't for me, the streets would not be our runway for the evening. Already the king has been hit hard with the death of his master sorcerer. He already feels weakened and unprotected. So the place of holding for the Royal Garden Court will possibly be somewhere in open areas. Without our walls, our shadows, our poison, we are nothing but an outnumbered army of children."

"You're Shadow men may be children, but my Sharks spill blood like men." Seifer One says.

"So, what's the plan?" Cid asks. "I still get to beak necks?"

"The mansions are empty." Roxas explains.

He unknowingly steps forward ahead of his father, who doesn't correct him. He gives Roxas the stage for demonstration to the other guild masters his skill of early leadership. A smile grows on Roxas' face.

"They've taken the vast bulk of their mercenaries out with them tonight as they scour the fields and hills for a meeting place. Now is when we make our first strike. We will split up, half assaulting the Oblivion's estate, the other half the Dominions'. Kill everyone inside, and I mean _everyone_. Then we set our traps. When the Bastion return we assault their men from the windows and rooftops of their own homes. We'll kill their family, their friends. When it is time to run, we burn their mansions to the ground. They will suffer tonight, and suffer greatly. If we're lucky, we might kill Mickey or Xemnas during the assault."

Roxas and Cloud look to every single pair of eyes, judging their commitment. Despite their anger at being deceived, the simple but brutal plan seems to excite their bloodlust. Five years is a long time. Suddenly an end seems in sight.

"Who goes where?" Leon finally asks.

"The Lions and Serpents will take the Oblivions. The Sharks and Spiders will go for the Dominions.'" Roxas says.

"And who will you go for?" Cid asks.

"Our men will be scattered among each of you." Roxas says. "That way I show no preference and therefore no risk of betrayal. As for who I go with . . . that is my own damn business."

"You can't make us go with the Sharks!" Larxene complains, her outburst earning her a glare from both Cloud and Saix.

"Come now, your lovely presence will make the proceedings all the more exciting." Cid says.

"No arguing." Roxas says. "No squabbles. No betrayals. We start this tonight. Understood?"

They all reluctantly agree.

"I get to slice Oblivion throats!" Larxene says. She seems tremendously happy.

"Wait until the sun has dipped below the walls." Roxas orders. Move in concert, and keep it quiet. Once set up, things will take time. Kill any who might return early, and wait for the main force before you act. And no matter what, make sure the homes burn."

They all scatter in various directions and once they're gone, Roxas release a breath he didn't know he was holding as the guilds scattered.

"Well done, son." Cloud praises.

"I had hesitation." Roxas admits.

"Even so, you did not show it. Just as I." Cloud places a hand on his shoulder. "You did well; demonstrated the potential of leadership you have, and will soon gain."

Roxas bows his head to his father. "I shall follow The Lions and Serpents to the Oblivions."

"Be on your guard. Shall Lexaeus follow?" Cloud asks.

Roxas opens his mouth but shuts it. Saix has already been dismissed to join the other men of the guild. Roxas ponders for a moment before answering. "No."

Cloud grins. "Then go forth, my son."

Roxas bows on last time to his father before walking away. Quiet and smoothly, he vanishes into the night.

* * *

Darkness had stolen over the harbor while minuscule drops of rain filtered down, lighting on the brick walkway. Mottled moonlight glistened on still waters, mingling with the slightly warmer glow emanating from the tall oil lamps and storefront windows. Shoppers, huddled in thin jackets, hurried toward doors that would lead them to cover. Above, troops of puffy-cheeked clouds waited in the sky, frozen in place.

Axel and his men ready themselves with hand-made explosives, sharpened scimitars, and several concealable pistols. Gathered on the deck, they follow Axel silently off the ship and into the Square of the village.

They weave through Merchant Way, their hands eagerly twitching at their torsos for the bombs to throw.

At Axel's command, they light them and chuck them at the windows. Moments after it breaks the glass, the explosion bursts through. Screams fill the air and suddenly lights flick on in neighboring homes.

Xigbar is the first to start the screaming. "_Let's start a riot_!" he screams to the heavens.

Soon the rest of the crewmen join in, hollering, laughing and chucking things at windows, setting things on fire and running through the street ramped. They torch the storehouses, rendering food all the more precious. Butcher after butcher retreats into his shop, persuaded through either coin or dagger. Bakers fared no beter. They either shut their ovens down for the night or shut them down forever.

"The tradesmen will point their fingers at you once this day is done." Ventus says as he travels beside him. Axel only laughs.

"After this day is done, I don't care. Tonight we need hunger and riots."

"_Let's start a riot_!" Demyx screams.

With quick hand gestures, Axel positions his men up and down the road. In every corner, in every stall, the men occupy Merchant Way. Axel stands at the intersection with Castle Road, the main throughway that leads north to south from the wall to the castle. A few of his most trusted men join the hungry, complaining masses in the south. The riots will surge north at frightening pace.

For twenty minutes they wait. Axel keeping his head tilted so his hat shades his eyes and smiles at those who notice him. He feels unafraid. Only a full troop of mercenaries would give him concern. Beside him is a modest jeweler selling baubles.

A chorus of shouts arise from the south. Axel looks down Castle Road and is pleased at the sight. Over four hundred make up the first wave. He recognizes one of their shouts as an anthem he had devised. "Bread or blood," they shout. One or the other, they have it, and Axel know which one he prefers. He draws his sword and pistol and places the tip of his sword by his left foot. All down Merchant Way, his men do the same.

"Bread or Blood!" Axel shouts as the mod reaches him.

"Bread or Blood!" the mob shouts in return, led by his men.

Stalls for bakers and meat carvers are empty and unguarded, and as the mobs pass they kick and tear them apart. Given a taste of carnage, the mob wants more.

More of Axel's men appear, holding lit torches and shouting angrily. More stalls are tipped over. Wagons burn. Donkeys bleed out, their mournful screeches haunting the chaos. The crowd swells in numbers, joined by looters, bullies, and the coldhearted who feel power in the mob. A human swarm, they tear Merchant Way to pieces. Fire spread along the houses, and men come rushing with buckets. Axel personally set fire to houses he deems too pretty.

He whistles long and loud. Their work is done. Guards have begun pouring in from the north, chasing away the looters and rioters with shield and blade. At first some resist, but Axel's men shout false cries of fear and flee. When blood spills across the streets, the rest followed.

It will take several hours to put out the fires. Merchant Way looks like an army has invaded.

Luxord comes rushing in from the west. "Problems, we've got plenty now." He says, talking with a lisp. "I think we've got eyes watching us, sir."

Axel pulls him off the main road, certain he has misheard due to the horrid commotion. Ventus isn't far behind.

"Tell me again." Axel says. "Make it clear."

"Don't need to. See for yourself." Luxord points.

Axel follows the finger and finds smoke. The thief guilds have chosen the night to play.

Dark green cloaks descend from the rooftops. Arrows shoot from windows, the rain down upon the men and people. Axel hears screams followed by horrific sounds of battle.

"Behind!" several shout. Guards spin, holding shields high as dozens of arrows rain down. Fear lumps in Axel's throat. Swords ring as men assault them from the back, attacking his men as well. Surrounded by flesh and amour, Axel smells sweat and blood. The air whistles with arrows, followed by wooden thumps as they hit shields, or screams when they hit something softer.

With attackers on both sides, and archers firing from so many windows, he knows their hope is slim.

Over a hundred men in cloaks rush through the streets as if part of the new guard, slashing with their daggers and swords. He sees Demyx and Xigbar stagger out of the mass and into an alley near theirs. Marluxia slips out and into an opposite narrowway.

It's falling apart. Axel's men fall like wheat under a scythe, unprepared for the amount of skill and ruthlessness the thief guilds' men possess. He watches as they cloaks sweep the outer perimeters of the crowd and as if by magic, people stop their actions. Whether struck by blade of by fear, the sight of cloaks stop them and they cower like dogs as the cloaks flap in the in the wind and surround them like a human fence. Guards lower their shields, but hold their weapons.

Axel emerges from the alley with Luxord and shouts. "Fall back!" almost immediately, he still sees whatever good men he has left leave through the mass of people and follow him.

Axel turn back once more to see the chaos, and something catches his eye.

Within the chaos, a strange young man, no older than probably seventeen or eighteen vaults through the men, slaying them as if they are no more dangerous to him than toys. Axel watches, stunned at the boy's controlled motions. The soldiers and people, frantic to avoid the arrows are unprepared for the fury of his assault. All the while, his hood conceals his features, but his jawline is neutral. There's no smile, nor annoyance; just a blank pallet of a face and hints of blonde hair.

He knocks swords aside, dances between thrusts, and slashes throat after throat. Bodies pile at his feet, and he needs no help. After the first few, the mercenaries have to climbs over their bodies to reach him. That momentary loss of solid footing is all it takes for the young master swordsman. He nimbly leaps over bodies and stabs a soldier in the back and then shouts to the rest.

The boy single-handedly seems to drive the people and guards back and away as his daggers cut through skin and armor like butter. He flips back and away like his body curling around sword strikes as if his bones are made of water.

Axel grabs Ventus by the hand as he feels a hand clap his shoulder and Demyx's voice rings out to get back to the ship.

With one final glance over his shoulder, Axel sees the boy slice at a woman's chest, and she falls in a puddle of blood at the boy's feet.


	6. Chapter 5

Roxas walks through the halls of the Oblivion mansions feeling a bit let down. While the doors and windows are thick, the lawn had a few traps that were designed to alarm not kill. The inside is even emptier. By his count, ten soldiers had been left behind as guards. They had died quickly and easily. Other than that, the mansion is vacant.

Adjusting his newly equipped arrow launchers, shafts wielding thin hand arrows strapped to his forearm, Roxas smiles at how well they test drove. With one flick of his arm, he can send at least five thin arrows launching at his target. The same kind of launchers is strapped to his ankles. With his deadly accuracy with these weapons, he can use them to pin his opponents down, even if he or the target is moving.

Seifer One marches alongside Roxas, his mood far more sour.

"No pasty rich people to smash." He grumbles. "This is stupid. I bet Xemnas had men left. I should have gone there. Why did you make me come here? I wanted head-smashing!"

"Shut up, Seifer." Roxas says. "You'll still get your chance remember?"

Seifer shrugs.

"Where's Leon?" he asks

"That I don't know." Roxas says. "Him and his Lions should be setting up the oil for the fires."

The two heirs near the rows of windows that view the front lawn.

"Windows won't open, so we'll focus on holding the doors," Seifer says. He points outside the gates to the houses on the far side of the road. "We'll have archers there. Once Xemnas comes, we squash them in between."

"Simple enough plan." Roxas says. "Should work, though. Did hardly a scratch to the manor, so there's no reason for him to be alarmed."

"He'll be alarmed." Seifer says, pointing farther to the south. "Look. Smoke."

Roxas lowers his head a little and peers out. Sure enough, a thick plume of smoke rises high from the southern district. His heart sinks.

"That's Xemnas' place, all right." Roxas says, his voice monotone. He tries to keep in reason why there's smoke already. "Do you think they already set it aflame?"

"I look like a soothsayer?" Seifer asks. "Go run and ask if you want answers. I got none but my fists."

"That might explain my father's delay." Roxas says.

"What's that?!"

"I'm going to go check on my men. Stay here and watch for any early arrivals. Try to wait until they're inside to attack I wouldn't be surprised if Xemnas sends someone to check on his home once he sees the smoke from afar. Let them go if possible."

"I'm not an idiot." Seifer grumbles.

"Prove it." Roxas says as he hurries off. He glances at the setting sun as he passes by another row of windows. Where is his father? Why is he so late?

With so many treasures scattered throughout the mansion waiting to be looted, Roxas goes unnoticed as he walks. He's already marked his way of escape once the chaos begins. It is a slender door that leads up to an attic. He checks it once, and in the back is a round, dusty window. From there he can reach the roof, and once upon the roof, he can pick any direction he desires to escape. But the plan is worthless without his father there. Without Cloud, he's accomplish nothing.

As he nears the back of the mansion, screams fill the halls as the members push deeper into the mansion. On the far sides, the Serpents and Lions are certainly doing the same. The boy explores the estate. The occasional body of a guard lies in his path, but more often it is that of a young girl or boy wearing plain clothes. Simple servants, Roxas notes. He tries to steel himself against what he sees. He has known this would happen, and he had warned himself, and the carnage is horrific.

He steps into a bedroom to find two Serpents standing over a young girl who can't be older than twelve. Her clothes are torn, her face bruised. Roxas inhales sharply.

"Auron." Roxas hisses, unheard by either. The other man pulls down his pants, and Roxas flings a dagger deep into his back.

"What the _fuck_?" shouts Auron. Roxas twirls another dagger in his hand, his eyes wide with anger.

There is a large scar over the right half of Auron's face and over his eye, which is constantly shut as a result. His left eye is amber colored.

"Clean and quick." He says. "I made that damn clear before."

"That what you want?" says the Serpent. "Fine. Come here, bitch."

He grabs the girl, flings her down to her knees, and then slashes open her throat. The girl cries and gags as her blood spills across her dress. Letting foo g her hair, Auron laughs as she drops dead to the carpet.

"Hope you're happy." He says. "She might have had a few more minutes of fun before we did her in."

The dagger stops its twirl in Roxas' hand. The two stare at one another. A smirk grows across his face.

"Don't you d-" Auron starts before Roxas steps in, draws his dagger, and thrusts it into his chest. His eyes bulge. Roxas grabs his hair in his hands as he pulls his weapon free.

"A shame I don't have time to make you suffer for it." Roxas says to him.

He dies, Roxas' dagger rammed deep into his throat. As he looks around the room, a dozen men have begun shouting from the main entrance, Seifer One's voice the loudest.

Roxas leaves the room and hurries down towards the entrance. He sees a few thieves dashing around the corner, too far ahead for him to ask questions. Seifer One's shouts are the only ones that he can understand above the throng, and what he hears fills his gut with lead.

"Pirates! Riots!" shouts Seifer Two. "We've got guards to bleed!"

Roxas dashes through a dining room, turns left down a hallway, then hooks towards the main entrance. Over a hundred thieves line up along the windows facing the front of the house. Leon towers among them, staring and pointing.

"What's going on here?" Roxas shouts.

"Soldiers." Leon says, spinning to greet Roxas. "Royal soldiers too. They showed up and started surrounding the place. I count at least a hundred."

"We got heads to smash, boys, and lots of them!" Seifer One shouts.

While the Seifers are enthusiastic, Roxas' face pales. The soldiers arrive too soon. His father isn't even here yet. What is going on?

"Any reason as to why?" Roxas says.

"A riot started off on the south side." One rogue beside them speaks. "Something about a band of pirates setting ablaze the shops and small homes of the village."

"What's the look of the men?" Roxas asks.

"They may be of royal emblem, but their weapons are no different than guards that patrol." Leon assesses.

"We need to delay them." Roxas orders. "Hold the doors as best we can. I expect you to kill them." Roxas says. "Perhaps once the fire is set, we can escape during the commotion."

"Or we'll roast like roaches." Seifer Two says.

Roxas and Leon state eye to eye.

"I don't see any other way." Roxas says.

"We shall fight." Leon says with an arm over his chest in salute.

"I will find my father and being him here."

"They're coming." Several shout at once. The soldiers hurry into the mansion through the gates, swarming like metallic ants. They surround the complex, this time within the gate instead of without. Most wiled long swords and shields, though some of their armor may provoke problems.

"Hold the door." Roxas says, taking a step back.

"Better hurry." Seifer One says, taking a step back. "And you better hope Cid hasn't lost his spi9ne and run!"

Roxas has barely left before the surrounding soldiers barge through the door all throughout the lower level. They pour inside, through the doors only to be ambushed with arrows and daggers. Roxas draws his short sword and cuts down the first that comes neat him. A second soldier tries to use his shield to block, but Roxas rolls atop it, over his head, and then thrusts his sword through the shoulder blade. The sounds of battle erupt throughout the mansion.

Armored citizens stand before the windows, swinging enormous mauls that easily bash through the glass and layer the carpet with shards. Soldiers follow them, trying to lower the sense of chaos, but Roxas knows it's useless. He feels torn between relief and worry. Relief because of the involvement to dire down the chaos. Worry because they'll kill him just as easily as any other rioter.

As of now, everyone is his enemy as he fights through the masses to look for his father.

His daggers in hand, he turns right and bolts deeper into the mansion. If there is any hope of escape, he needs to get to the attic. Roxas is too fast for the initial wave in the hallway to catch him, but as he burst through the door at the end he finds himself in the middle of an armory. Three soldiers approached, their shields leading. Roxas rolls to one side, lashing underneath the shield at the closest soldier's ribs. Blocking the thrust of a sword, Roxas whirls it to the ground and runs up the blade, placing one foot on the shield before pushing off. When he finishes his roll, he throws a flash bomb and it explodes at the guards' feet, unleashing a large boom clap and flashing s bright light, smoke billowing up after it.

Roxas is already far out of the hall by the time the light finishes its flash. He hurries to the end of the corridor and kicks open the door. He is within another dining hall, though smaller and most likely intended for mercenaries and servants. On the far end smoke billows into the room from underneath the crack of the door. Roxas sees this and swears up a storm. He pulls his mask up over his mouth. Smoke pours in through the one door, and down the hallway he sees the fire rapidly spreading.

Roxas starts dashing down the hall. The smoke gathers along the ceiling in giant rolling clouds. In each doorway he passes, the fires roar, licking the outsides of their doors, looking like tongues eager to taste more of the building. His eyes sting looking at them. The hallway is unbelievably hot. He wraps his cloak over his mouth, his mask doing little to keep out the foul air. Cough after cough racks his body. Soon he loses vision as his eyes water.

Roxas can't believe the heat. It doesn't seem to matter that hi skin touches no fire. The floor warms his feet. The air sucks at the moisture of his skin, and he feels like a pastry stuck in an oven. He remembers his training, clutches it with all his mind, and forces himself to keep running. Air doesn't matter. One foot after the other.

His outstretched hand presses against the end of the hallway. Feeling a bit of hope, he turns and keeps his hand near, occasionally brushing the wall with his fingertips. When he touches a door, he feels like shouting for joy. His fingers find the doorknob, and yet again he wants to cheer. The doorknob, while not cool, doesn't burn to the touch. He flings it open and dashes up the stairs. Smoke climbs up with him, and wishing there was another way, he slams the door shut behind him.

The attic is dim, but the few windows let in enough light for him to see. Most are small, but near the back he sees the giant circle of glass. Roxas could almost imagine the cool air rushing on the outside of it, and he wants to dive in as if it is water. Piles of discarded armor, old relics of family generations long past, fill the room. Roxas weaves about them, all while wondering where he could meet his father.

He is halfway to the window when it shatters. A brick skips across the floor and Roxas ducks as it settles. The fire is already crawling its way up the stairs, its smoke billowing. He has two minutes, maybe three. He kicks out the last few shards of glass, stands on the edge of the window, and pulls himself up to the roof.

From there he leaps to a nearby tree, slides down, and vanishes amid the mob.

Roxas has been involved in many riots, but he's never seen one created so spontaneously out of so little. Someone's hands are certainly behind it, and the manipulation involves leaves him impressed. He speed-walks down the middle of the open street, almost euphoric at the chaos. Let the chaos burn down the falsehood like fire upon a crumbling home. From the ashes, he and his kind will build anew.

Nearly everything is burning. Everything. Brilliant gold and crimson flames chew through homes, spew thick black smoke towards the sky, and race blindly for the next piece of wood. Windows explode outwards, sending hundreds of diamond-bright slivers of glass through the air. And through it all, the large mass of citizens and guild members huddle around to the next mansion. The fires strafe the entire streets with blistering fire. All together, bellowing a hoarse guttural cry, the crowd's voices rattle the ground.

The few people still on their fee are running in a blind panic. As fire leaps from building to building, street to street, intent on destroying everything, the mod heads north.

Roxas dodges people and slinks to the sides of the road as he suddenly spots a cloaked figure up on the roofs. Roxas rushes to a rustic ladder, grabbing the rungs and hurrying to the rooftops. Once aboard, he's met with a crossbow in his face for a split second before Terra, the leader of the Wolf Guild lowers it.

"Who started the mob?" Roxas asks.

"A couple of midnight drunks, probably." Terra assumes. "The only peculiar thing is that they seemed to walk steadily before one started shouting and chucked a bomb at one of the bakeries."

"Where is my father?"

"Safe." He hears a voice behind him.

As if his thoughts summoned him, Roxas whirls and finds his father standing in the shadows of a chimney. Roxas takes a step forward, ready to launch and hug his father in relief, but restrains. He thinks of how his father will mock him and belittle him as times before. Roxas shivers from an ice ball inside his chest. He rolls his shoulders and relaxes and sighs. He kneels before his father.

"I'm glad you're alive." Roxas says instead.

"Of course I am." His father replies. He speaks sounding disinterested. Roxas lowers his head. "Now get off your knees. You aren't some low-rent whore."

Roxas rises, keeping his head low. Behind his father, Roxas can see Lexaeus, a few scratches on his face along with a small slash across his shoulder.

"We lost too many, father." Roxas says. He feels cold inside. His skin tingles, and he feels certain death awaits him. "I failed you. We can spring no trap at the mansion."

Cloud tilts his head to one side. He cups Roxas' chin in his hand and forces him to look in the eye.

"If you failed, it is because of the strength of our opponent and my failure to prepare accordingly. I saw the remnants of the home on my way inside. The King prepared for us well, far better than the others."

Roxas would question his father about being there and not even telling him about it. He can understand the other guild leaders, but after his years of devotion to his father and his guild, this betrayal stings a little in ways his father rarely ever can.

"Now, what happened to the two Serpents and that young girl?" He asks, and Roxas thinks back to the carnage, and the two dead rogues.

"They disobeyed orders." Roxas says. "And I made them pay for it."

Then, to Roxas surprise, Cloud smiles at him.

"Death for disobedience." He says. "I have trained you well. You are turning into the perfect heir."

He then kisses Roxas' forehead. Roxas tenses and a breath hitches in his throat. The notion of affection is so foreign Roxas is tempted to ask if his father is drugged or drunk.

"Come with me down to the streets. We shall see who is responsible for this."

"Yes father."

Roxas follows on the heels of his father, they climb down hopping onto the street and down to the head of the mob as they storm the Dominions' mansion.

Cloud Skyes stands at the center of the street, Roxas at his side.

"Men," he calls to the Wolf Guild members. H doesn't bother being quiet with all the shouts echoing around and reverberating through every crevice of concrete and cobblestone. "Fire arrows and men unarmed gather around the crowd. Kill anyone who dare attack you. No mercy."

With ominous flaps, cloaks descend from the rooftops and ready their weapons. They immediately circle around the crowd while a wave of arrows shoots out from the rooftops at an arc and land on anyone they please.

"May I join in?" Roxas asks as the cloaks cut down the citizens and guards alike.

"Go right ahead." Cloud says.

Roxas flicks his bangs out of his eyes and pulls his hood up and then dashes into the fray. Cloud approaches, Terra at his back and his trusted advisor Aqua in an alleyway.

Roxas slashes, flips, leaps, thrusts and blocks anything that isn't dorned in a gray or green cloak. He spins, his cloak twirling behind him and his sword clanging metal.

As he takes down villager or guard, out of the chaos, he hears a shout. Thinking it's his father, he turns, but instead he finds a small gathering of men huddled together, stumbling away from the chaos. One of them looks back and seems to make eye contact with Roxas as he briefly spins and slashes at a woman's chest before stabbing her throat.

If they're the ones leaving, they probably started it. Another man with pink hair follows behind them, a small burlap sack. As a few more stragglers begin to follow, Roxas snarls and growls, and gives chase to the men. Even if his father can't see, the men will inform him. Roxas runs on after the men.

The way they're dressed procures Roxas as they wear beads and blouses and hats with feathers. Oddly none of the men look back, assuming the chaos has consumed all the attention of guild and guard alike. Roxas leaps up and his fist crushes one man's face. When he collapses, Roxas' one hand covers his mouth the other fetching his bloodied dagger and pierces it through the shoulder and tears free, severing bone and spilling blood across the sidewalk.

He leaps from the body to the next, his knees landing on the man's shoulders and rolling with the momentum, rolls down and brings the man with him, his face slashing against pavement. Roxas finishes the roll on top of him and grabs him by the scruff of his shirt and punches his sword through the man's chest and out his back, pinning him to the wall. Grabbing the pirate man's head with his hands, Roxas head-butts him, and then twists violently. When he yanks the sword free, the man falls to the ground dead.

Roxas manages to stay concealed in the shadows as the men retreat back to the docks. There a large ship is docked near the far right pier, it's sails dirtied and ragged, and up near the crow's nest, a black flag with a strange flame emblem flaps in the small breeze.

Here things are quiet, and the roar of the crowd is reduced to a small hum. The water beneath the docks sways and clocks against the wooden posts. The men run side by side, both panting from the exertion. A man who stayed aboard lowers a drawbridge and the men stumble over one another to get to the deck. Roxas stays concealed behind a stack of crates and barrels as he listens to the men.

". . . was too close." Roxas hears one say.

"Probably our best one yet." says another.

"You men worked too well." A third pipes.

"We try to do our best." A voice with a foreign accent speaks.

"What do we do now?"

"Did you men scour for what you need?"

"I believe so."

"All but a few good whores."

Roxas peeks his head around a barrel and manages to pinpoint the origins of the voices. Three men stand on what seems to be an upper level of the ship while others collapse on the main floor, hunched over breathless and their chests heaving. By count, there is at least fifteen. And with most of the injured, Roxas can see them dying at the tips of his blades.

The origin of the voices narrows the three standing up on the upper level.

One of the men has a long gray streaked ponytail with an eyepatch that is said to be worn by many of the rogue sailors. He bears a scar across his cheek. The exotic accent belongs to a man with rugged blonde hair and beard. And the third . . .

Roxas pauses briefly as he leans out more. The third voice if from a man of, unique appearance. He has slim green eyes that burn with emotion in the moonlight. His hair is a deep crimson red and slicked back in spikes; the color seemingly so pure that Roxas finds himself debating if it's his real color. Under his eyes are strange, reverse triangular tattoos. He places his hands on his hips, still breathing through his chest.

Dizziness wafts Axel's temples as his eyes scour the crew aboard the ship.

"Where's Pablo?" one asks. "Demetrius?"

"They were right behind me." Demyx speaks.

"_Were_, is the key word." says Xigbar.

"What do you think-" Ventus starts, but the look on Captain Axel's face arrests him immediately. He gazes out at the docks, the city mansions not far beyond. His face shows worry and concern. Then his eyebrows narrow and his lips contort into a snarl before he squeezes his eyes shut and turns away.

"We need to be ready to sail in minutes!" he orders. The men don't argue, in fact they eagerly agree to leave.

With his time now limited, Roxas keeps his hand on his dagger. He is about to reveal himself when shouts erupt from beyond the ship. Diving back into the shadows, Roxas sees five to six guards approach the ship.

"You there men, halt!"

As the guards approach, Roxas emerges from his hiding spot, and cupping on hand over one of the soldier's mouth from the back, he rams the butt of his dagger into his skull, enduring him unconscious. Dragging his body into the shadows, it goes unnoticed as they approach the ship. The crewmen try to look presentable not just burned.

Axel leans near Ventus. "Let me handle this." Axel approaches the men and they keep their hands on their hilts. "How can I help you gentlemen?"

Axel crosses the threshold, stopping just at the base of the drawbridge.

"Is something wrong?" Axel asks, his voice seemingly so professional it astounds Roxas as he watches his catch of game.

"We're with the official guard of the Twilight Kingdom. We have word that you're the ones who started this riot."

To Roxas' surprise, the red-haired man laughs. "No, no you misunderstand sir. My men were caught in the commotion; we're simply a cargo ship trading for exotic spices."

"I know I saw you and you men!" Shouts another guard from the back. "You unleashed those fires. And now the thief guilds will have our heads!"

"Yorlen, hush!" the man upfront speaks.

He had to turn back as he spoke and Roxas shakes his head at the man's stupidity and turns away as he sees a glimmer of light on the red-head's belt. Sounds of drawn weapons meet his ears. Steel rings against steel. Men scream. Roxas looks to find more men flooding from the ship, but the soldiers hold strong.

More sounds of battle. Roxas seizes his chance and springs up from his hiding spot. He slips by the violence, but as he's about to near the cargo poised in front of the ship, a body comes swinging at him. Roxas deflects it, but winds up stumbling into an open crate.

The world briefly becomes a sudden whirl of smeared images. Roxas whirls to face the door but it's gone now, replaced by a flat plank of wood. The screams vanishing into silence as the top comes crashing down on top.

"No!" Roxas' voice hoarse, only sound like a whimper. The word reverberates around him. "Fuck!"

Rushing into the wall, he beats his palms against the place where the door has stood wide open only moments ago.

Trapped, he spins to face the interior of the room again, but the sudden motion causes the room to reel and tilt. Tossed off his feet, Roxas slams onto the cold wood that presses into his back and shoulder blades like a slab of ice.

Reaching out, kicking his legs and thrashing, he finds himself boxed in by close narrow walls of smooth polished cherry wood. He can't be trapped, not while he feels his father finally feeding him the love Roxas has so desperately craved since he was a young boy. Like an oasis in the desert, he craved it like nothing else.

A small peephole enables him to see outside, what's happening. He sees a guard fall to the ground, a sword piercing through his armor. When the sword retracts, blood splatters into the hole. The sound of swords striking armor can be good or bad. Each cry of death can be one of the pirates or a guard trying to invade the ship.

His mind is slowly becoming too exhausted to hope one way or another. He can't move now or he'll give away his position. So he simply makes due with his accommodations. He keeps his mask over his face, feeling comfortable only with it on. He listens to the battles, but they don't end soon, and later his eyes somehow fall shut.

When he wakes, Roxas has a terrible pain in his head that hammers him from the inside. Roxas opens his eyes, but all he sees is blackness. The world turns left and right and Roxas feels sick.

Voices from above are muffled but can be heard.

His heart sinks.

There's creaking and he catches the scent of salt. Peeping through the hole, all he sees are waves along the surface of a wide expanse of blue.

_I'm on a boat_. He thinks.

"No, no, no, no!" Roxas hisses. He's about to move when he bangs his head on the top of the crate.

He can't hear his father's voce, in fact no one sounds familiar. Roxas continues to wriggle to no avail of freeing himself. The box must've been mistakenly locked on the outside, thinking his weight was that of some expensive weapons.

Being he's never really ridden on a boat that often, Roxas feels like his intestines are being flopped and tossed and thrown all around the inside on his body. He has to literally put all his energy into fighting against the urge to convulse.

Footsteps can be heard and that's when Roxas figures out that he's below deck. The boots sound heavy on the wood floor. Judging from the sound of how dense, the man must be a guard. A big and very muscular man.

"Come on Xigbar, hurry up! Captain Axel wants all the weapons above deck." The familiar voice rings.

"I'm going as fast as I can.!" Xigbar bites back. "I don't see you helping! Give me a hand with this."

"My body is not built for this kind of labor work. Now heave!" Demyx cheers.

"You little devil." Xigbar grumbles.

Roxas can feel himself lifted and he forces himself to remain stiff as the boards beneath him. The men have taken him on board their ship, and they must've left the city. Roxas' body grows cold. He is now outside the city with only his weapons and skill being the only thing he can trust. He needs to find a way to get back to Twilight Kingdom, back to his father.

Suddenly Roxas is unceremoniously dropped and he has to bite the inside of his lip to keep from grunting at the pain in his left shoulder from where it hit the side of the crate.

"There, that's the last of the crates." Xigbar's voice says.

"Excellent." The Captain, Captain Axel's voice praises.

"Let's just hope we have something good." Luxord says.

Roxas slides his daggers free without a sound, and crosses them over his chest. And for a moment, the box feels like a coffin. He readies himself as he hears the creaks and jerks of nails as the men pry the top open.

Daylight streams in.

With Ventus at his side, Axel watches as the men pry open the beginning of the crates from their looting of the town. He looks to Ventus who keeps his gaze ahead, his face calm.

"Are you okay?" Axel asks.

"I'm fine." Ventus speaks.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes captain. I'm fine." Ventus looks to him and gives a soft smile, though Axel can tell it's forced.

As he's about to rebuttal, a sudden shrill cry escapes from the men. Axel turns in time to see a black blob shoot out from the crate.

Roxas leaps and rolls, slicing at the ankles of the two closet men, then flipping the blade, stabs them both in the sternum. Yanking them free, he whirls, daggers flying from his hands, able to score near killing blows. As he whirls, his hood falls to his shoulders.

Axel and Ventus stare in shock at first once a third crewmember dies at the boy's feet. Standing tall, blood dripping from his daggers, stands a near exact clone of Ventus.

The boy has blonde windswept hair with bangs that scrape against his eyebrows. His eyes are a cold sapphire blue that can cut as much as convince from their ruthless glare. His adorns the black armor of his guild, his cloak pooling at his feet, shadows slipping off them like smoke of a fire.

With three men already dead at his feet, he opens his mouth and unleashes an ungodly wail like a demon. He drops to one knee, drawing daggers free from his belt. They are slender, curved, designed for throwing instead of close combat. But still the boy blocks all the oncoming attacks of one of the crewmen, and Roxas jabs all the knives into the man's ribcage. Prying one loose, he whirls and slashes across another crewman's chest, blood seeping immediately from the wounds before he grabs the man by the shoulder, ramming him into the large wooden post holding the crow's nest and stabbing him three times in the stomach. The man gasps and slides to the deck.

"Captain, what do we do?!" Ventus asks panicked.

Axel swallows before ordering the boy to stay in his place. He doesn't recall saying it, but the boy listens as Axel takes the steps down to the deck.

The scream still ripping its way out of Roxas' throat, he's about to drive his blade into the skull of a man he managed to drive to his knees, when a huge clap of sound erupts.

The pain is a sharp and sudden, beginning in Roxas' shoulder and spreading outward with electric fingers. A scream stops in his throat and Roxas drops to the deck instantly, managing to prop up on one knee in a kneeling position.

Propped on one knee, the remaining crewmembers surround him, and Roxas tries not to think about the blood that could be seeping into his uniform right now.

The Captain, Axel, holds a strange looking weapon similar to Roxas' hand-held crossbow. Though this one consists of more metal than wood, and he hears it make a clicking noise he can only connect back to the rattling of a cicada.

"That's enough, boy."Axel orders.

Roxas stares at the weapon in curiosity and eagerness. He eyes the little black dot, and can hear the sound ringing in his ears. With another shot towards the sky, the weapon spouts fire accompanied by a sound similar like the harsh clap of thunder. Cupping his shoulder, Roxas is stunned. He's never seen a weapon like it before, and he wants it. It may be the one thing that decides his life right now, but he wants a weapon of such power in his possession; not in some greasy inexperienced rogue.

"Stand down and surrender." Axel orders.

The blonde snarls like an animal. Axel sees his fingers ripple, and milliseconds later a knife barely misses his cheek by a hair's width. And then the boy is upon him, thrusting his swords towards Axel's stomach. If his bullet injury hurt, the boy does a damn good job at hiding it. Axel barely misses the boy's sword as it falters at the last second. It drops and the boy surprisingly grabs Axel's wrist and spins in to elbow him in the gut. Axel' grip on the gun loosens and he feels the boy wrench it from his grasp.

"You don't want to do this." Axel says. "Give that back to before you hurt yourself."

"You dare treat me as a child? You should never underestimate your opponent." Roxas sneers.

"Hand it over or I will unleash my crew on you."

Roxas snickers. "I dare you to try."

Then Axel watches as the boy suddenly gasps, his hands opening and closing, the gun dropping to the floor, his daggers clanging off the deck.

Roxas' visions swims with dots, and his whole body lurches to one side. His knees buckle and he falls to his front.

Right before he is knocked out cold, he wonders how many days until his father forgets he ever existed.

Axel looks and finds Ventus wielding a black frying pan from one of the kitchens. He's a little shaky but he stands steady to make sure the boy is dead.

"You're welcome." Ventus says. Axel looks and can't believe the smile on the boys' face followed by a breathy laugh. He runs his fingers through his blonde hair and still laughs.

The remaining men gather around the boy, the emblem of his cloak becoming clear. Axel's eyes widen and his tone is authoritative.

"Men! Take him to the brigs. Strip him of all weapons and of his clothes! See to it he has _no_ weapon available!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Ventus, go and prepare some medical supplies. Come to me when it's ready."

"Yes, sir." Vetus obeys. "Is everything alright?"

"I'm not sure, yet." Axel admits. "But I do know one thing; we need to be careful.

We're harboring a thief."


	7. Chapter 6

When Roxas wakes up, he can barely open his eyes, the feeling of pressure on his lids. He's blindfolded. The feeling of being blind makes Roxas uneasy. His shoulder feels like fire has erupted in its tissue and the inferno is at the center of his shoulder blade.

He's about to move when he feels his hands are cold. Roxas yanks them forward, but they go no more than a centimeter. He is chained to the back of the boat. He is chained and blindfolded. They made sure to keep the chains short enough so that he can't move his hands behind his head and remove the blindfold. Nothing covers his body besides a ragged-feeling pair of trousers.

Wherever they're taking him, they don't want Roxas to see.

"Hey there, stranger. Glad to see you're awake." He says, but Roxas doesn't reply. It isn't the Captain, but it sounds like it might've been that young man with the mullet. Roxas can hear the man kneel down beside him and he talks to Roxas in a stern voice.

While Roxas don't pay close attention to some parts, he gets the main idea.

For the next number of days, sea mammals will supplement his diet and provide skins as we travel. He doesn't tell Roxas what's going on, but Roxas can take a wild guess. He also tells Roxas they'll also make good ivory and oil. These are important trade commodities back home.

Roxas narrows his eyebrows in confusion; don't know why he'd tell him that, not like Roxas needs to know that.

He tells Roxas he'll be gone for a while and the trip to good few days, maybe weeks.

He can say whatever he wants. Like Roxas cares. Roxas can hear the man's lips moving, but he just learned not to hear. He's already devising a plan to leap off the ship with a lifeboat and if there's no lifeboat, he'll either create mutiny or take over the ship himself. With his sense of direction, Roxas feels it'd be best to keep one of the crewmen alive to navigate.

"Nonetheless, we're advised to keep you well hydrated and fed. So try and keep things down until we get there." He tells Roxas. Or more like he demands. "Don't think we feel sorry for you since you ran away from home."

Roxas snarls and once he calculates where he is, Roxas thrust his legs up and manage to find his shoulders. Roxas bends his knees in and constrict them around his neck. He gasps and wheezes, but Roxas locks his knees like a vise. Clenching all of what he's lost, all of what he has left behind, and am hoping that he can relieve the anger by strangling him.

The man slams his fist into the wooden floor and more footsteps are heard rushing down the stairs. Men jabber and yell as they try to get Roxas off. Roxas begins to scream. A horrible, blood-curdling sound that ices anyone's blood.

There's a metallic whoosh and the next thing he feels is a severe sting on his leg. This was on his calf, and when Roxas don't loosen the grip, the next one's above his knee. Finally the pain is too harsh that he lets go and collapses on the floor. Roxas tucks his knees into his chest, but with the feeling of satisfaction that he's bruised the man's neck. Something slams into the side of Roxas' head and he's out cold once more.

The next time he wakes it's from shivers of cold, and Roxas immediately realizes he's naked except for a pair of ragged trousers. Roxas clicks his tongue in disgust. Stripped of his guilds pride, he's left with the dirtied pants of some man. Roxas bends his knee, ignoring the pain as his toes grip the end of one leg and pulls, then the other. Despite having no proper undergarments, Roxas continues this until the pants are down around his ankles. Then he kicks them off to the side. This may catch up to him in a bad way if a crewman were to come down, but Roxas doesn't care.

Not trusting anyone, Roxas' instincts say to deny anything they feed him. Light footsteps walk down the steps and towards him. Roxas jerks his head up, and they pause, but resume in his direction in a minute.

"You took off your clothes." A tentative voice speaks.

Roxas doesn't answer, and fights a shiver running through his body.

"You'll get sick. Perhaps I could fetch clothes more appropriate fo -"

"No." Roxas snaps, suppressing his anger. "I'd rather be naked."

There's a moment of silence before the voice speaks again. "I brought you food." Roxas _tsks_ at him in annoyance. There's a footstep and suddenly a soft heat tickles Roxas' chin. The wafting scent of potato soup hits his nose. Despite his touch exterior, Roxas' stomach betrayed him as it viciously growls for the food.

"You should eat."

"Your men feed your prisoners?" Roxas remarks.

"They're not _my_ men." The boys rephrases. "And the Captain is deciding what to do with you."

"He'd better decide quickly. No man if free from the wrath of my father."

Roxas feels a wooden spoon poke at his lips and he folds them in, acting like a child, denying the food. The spoon continues to poke at his lips, and rather than smack it away, spilling it all over himself, Roxas accepts the spoonful, but turns his head to the side and spirits it out.

The boy sighs. "And who is your father?"

"Outsiders, eh? Never heard of the thieves guilds?"

"We spend most days on sea, we only dock in cities to gather supplies."

"Hmm."

"And what makes you so important?" the boy sneers.

"My father is Cloud Skyes. The greatest assassin of his time. All the thieves' guilds of our city are under his unflinching control. And I am his son."

There's a moment of silence, and Roxas wonders if the boy is pondering or staring at him in sudden fear. Roxas keeps his head straight.

"I see." The boy's voice is softer.

"So, what will your Captain do with me?" Roxas asks as another spoonful pokes his lips. He takes it and spits it out one more.

"It's undecided. You killed a few members of his crew, and we're short enough as it is."

"Probably because no one wants to sail on this rotten tub." Roxas belittles.

Once the meal finishes and the boy leaves, Roxas waits a minute before he tries to shake his head to get the blindfold to move. It's tied tight enough that it doesn't move easily. Leaning his head back, he can feel the back wall and rubs his head up and down until the cloth at least loosens. He manages to feel it get caught on a splinter, and carefully maneuvering his head right to left, he leans his head down and feel the cloth brush his ears. He shakes his head and the cloth falls to his neck.

His vision, blurry, Roxas has to blink a few times before his vision clears.

He is in the cargo section of the boat, as he is surrounded by crates and barrels. Some of the barrels are opened with the hilts of multiple swords poking out. More crates have tops pried open with straw drooling over edges and scattering around the floor. A wooden post is at the epicenter of the room.

He looks at his left shoulder, white bandages, looking recently replaced with fresh gauze wrap around it. Shouldn't be too damaging for him. Looking around, Roxas can't help but snicker at the things they've left Roxas to play with. Even with his nakedness, Roxas doesn't at all care. Instead he focuses on the matter at hand and tries to free his wrists.

There was no lockpick on him, so he needs to improvise. Glancing around the room, he tries to think of a good substitute.

Just in the reach of his toes, Roxas sees a loose nail in the floorboard.

Axel sits at his desk in the captain's quarters. His one hand cups his chin while the other taps at a map on the table. Axel leans back on the back legs of the chair, slightly rocking as he taps. Ventus is sitting on the bay window, daylight streaming in through the window. The waves are calm as Marluxia informed them of heading in the direction of Destiny Isles.

Ventus looks to the Captain, his troubled look concerning Ventus. Ventus had originally come in to tell him about Roxas' status, mingling around Axel's bookshelf of knick-knacks as he told. He now holds a book on ancient sea monsters in his lap, his eyes skimming the Captain waiting for him to speak. When nothing happens, he decides to use the opportunity to get up and walk over to the shelf once more.

"He must be of some value." Ventus says as he places the book on the shelf. His fingers ghosting over the labels, he picks out another book that tells of hidden treasure.

"His past doesn't concern me. Now that he's on my ship, his value is for me to decide." Axel retorts.

"I hope you're at least weighing your options."

"But why should I? The boy has killed my men effortlessly. Why should I spare his life?"

"If his father is a Guild Master above all others, he must be willing to pay a fortune if he wants back his heir. Either that, or he will do everything in his power, use every resource at his disposal, and cut down anyone in his way to get him back."

"So it isn't even worth it to have him on my ship." Axel says as he rises from his chair. "If he's that much trouble, then it's better to just let him go off the plank. He's probably trying to escape right now. From the way he describes his father, I'm willing to bet he passed a vast majority of his skill onto the boy."

"I'm just saying, you need to look at it from all angles. We kill his son, we'll most likely have an unpayable bounty on our heads. Or he can find ways to our old contacts and we'll be sunk in our nut in dungeons or torture chambers." Ventus explains as he sits back down on the cushioned seat.

Axel walks over next to him and brushes aside a velvet red curtain; one of two placed at each end of the seat to block out the moonlight at night. "So I can't win no matter what I chose?"

"Perhaps not." Ventus assures.

Axel raises his eyebrows in curiosity. He steps around the boy and sits across from him, tucking on leg under and resting an elbow on the top of the seat. "I'm listening."

"It's a stretch, but what if we were to strike a deal with the boy? We have him spend time on our ship and earn his trust. Then if we are to encounter his father or minions of his father, he could put in a good word for us." Ventus says. "Imagine the gold Cloud could pay us for the safe return of his son. The way things are run, his word is practically law in the Twilight Kingdom."

"I doubt the boy even want anything to do with us."

"His blades and poison may work for him in a town that he _knows_," Ventus says. "but out here, on the sea, he's hopeless. He's lacks the sense of direction sailors of our ship possess."

"He's crafty, the little shit." Axel says as he rubs his chin. He leans back and crosses his arms.

"I know nothing seems promising, and he can easily outsmart us, but we still have an advantage." Ventus reminds and Axel looks to him confused. "You're gun. You saw his face. He's never seen such a weapon before. He can't predict how fast the bullet can travel, how damaging it can be. One wrong move, and you can shoot him dead."

Axel looks away, Pondering for a moment. "Are you sure about this? I, as well as the men still think he might've been a long lost brother; twice removed or one of those."

"I already told you, we're not related. Whatsoever. I've been an only child all my life." Ventus says with a sigh.

"I'm sorry," Axel says. The men nearly slammed the poor boy with questions if he was related to the boy the moment his blond hair was exposed.

It's still strange to Axel. The boys are nearly alike in physical appearance; their personalities the only thing that differ them from one another.

"I'm willing to put your test to the plan, and who knows; perhaps with him on the crew, others will cower in fear, if not they can die at the end of his blade. And he might be able to rake in some coin for us."

"Now that's the Captain I know." Ventus smiles.

Roxas, gritting his teeth, coils his toes around the nail and pulls. He can feel the metal imprinting in his skin and his toes ache. Heaving a sigh, Roxas wraps his baby toes around it. Gritting his teeth, Roxas wedges the nail between his big toes and forces it up. He keeps pulling, as hard as he can, until the hilt lifts from the floorboard enough for him to settle his unused toes around it. The bottom of the nail is bent and dented.

As Roxas brings it close to him, the skin around his toes is red with thin slits of purple and blue around it. He flexes his toes and the soreness lessens. Steadying it, he twitches his foot and the nail goes flying up, end over end, and Roxas miraculously catching it with his teeth.

He keeps his tongue pressed to the back of his mouth, not wanting to taste the rustic metal, let alone accidentally swallow it. He mimics the same notion with his head, flicking it back and his fingers clasp the nail in his palm. Sighing in relief and happiness, nearing a laugh, he twiddles the nail between his fingers until he feels it enter the keyhole. He needs to keep his grasp just right, too much and he can easily fumble the nail and it can fall. All the while his ears are on full alert for any signs of anyone coming down below deck.

He hears a click. A sudden lurch followed, and Roxas can't catch himself quickly enough. His bound wrist manages to catch him, but the cuff digs so hard into his wrist that it bleeds. Roxas scrambles back, and despite his body flushing with pain, Roxas feels a wonderful, delirious satisfaction. His wrist is red from the tightness of the cuff, though he can't say the same for his other. Quickly Roxas uncuffs his wrist and examines the damage. The cuff didn't dig too deep, and the cut won't even be at risk of infection.

Standing, Roxas is worried how his legs will bare his weight. He can't remember how long he's been chained and blindfolded, but if he remembers right, it was around nighttime when he had followed the sailors. It is now daytime about, the afternoon time. Still it's enough time for him to assume he's already far from his home and father.

Not seeing his clothes anywhere in the room, Roxas first rolls his shoulder to know what will cause the pain. So far it's sore and Roxas tries a few jabs, and the pain rushes up his arm. So on his left shoulder he can only slash and maybe stab. For a moment, Roxas debates on wearing the trousers, but rules it out. He can only assume that his entire will be in the captain's quarters, and even with his limited knowledge of ships and the culture of pirates, he knows that the quarters will be secluded on one end of the ship.

Now for the fun. Roxas can't help but smile as he casually browses the weapons he can see open to him, ready for his disposal. He chooses on two ebony daggers, the blades serrated and the handles curved, and a handful of throwing knives.

Keeping the two ebony daggers between his teeth, Roxas walks around and looks up, the cargo hole, a large square opening with metal bars crossing horizontal and vertical, it's sealed tight, but fresh air wafts against Roxas' skin, welcoming goose pimples.

He finds a set of stairs leading up and sticks close to them as he hears the men at work. His eyes searching, he manages to find an empty wine bottle and grabs the neck.

He peeks his head up through the opening and finds most of the men out near the stern of the ship, his location is on the main deck. In the back, he sees a single door with a small elegant sign above it making out the word "Captain." The crewmen steady the sails, one keeping an eye on the wheel, others loading cannons for preparation or simply sit on barrels sipping bottles of ale.

Roxas keeps his eyes on all of them as he slithers out from below deck. He keeps crouched and loads the throwing knives between his fingers. Simultaneously as he throws them, he bolts off, rolling and flipping until he's in front of the crow's nest post.

Screams erupt from the men and Roxas can see two of the three daggers he launched have landed in flesh, the other sticking to the wooden wheel. At first they all stare in Roxas, shock punching fissures of temptation through their eyes. A crewman calls to the Captain and Roxas nearly smirks.

Axel and Ventus look up as Demyx bursts through the door, heaving and nearly yelling at the Captain to come out. Ventus and Axel follow and the two halt as they see the crewmen with their swords ready. Axel tries not to snicker as he can see out of his peripheral vision Demyx covering Ventus' eyes.

Roxas, he stands with the only form of cloth on his body at all being the white gauze wrapped around his shoulder wound. Other than that, the boy stands with his pride out and his entire body exposed. Looking like a naked nymph of the forest, Roxas kisses his daggers and then approaches towards the men; or rather towards Axel. Roxas crouches, his dagger held before his eyes. To Axel, he appears some strange wildling, dangerous, calm, and insane.

He was certainly a handsome boy, although some of that is hidden by numerous scars along his cheeks and neck, like fleshy pale crosses. The boy certainly had guts and enough pride to not once cower.

Axel can see his lips moving, but he can't hear what the boy is saying. At first he thinks he might be praying, but something seemed off about it.

"You are determined, son of Cloud." Axel shouts.

"My name is Roxas." Roxas shouts back.

This time, Axel doesn't conceal his snickers. "Will you fight me like a naked whore,, or do you hope to distract me while you cut my flesh with your dagger?"

"When you are dead, I will cast your body in the ocean," Roxas shouts. "The sharks will feed on your guts and fish will nibble on your innards."

Roxas remains still, his body crouched. Whispers float off his tongue. Then shadows grow about him, hiding his nakedness.

"Before we resort to the direct approach, I'm willing to make a proposal." Axel says as he raises a hand.

Roxas eyes squint and his eyebrows narrow. The pain hits before he realizes what happened, but his palm suddenly stings and he draws his hand in to find a small knife embedded in its center. Roxas leaps. It seems the chains of the world have left him, for he vaults high in the air. A cloak of shadows follows him even though he is naked. For a moment, he soars as if on wings, and then curls his body downward, diving like a bird of prey.

Demyx yanks Ventus back and the men scatter as the boy aims his daggers at Axel. The Captain draws his rapier sword, and manages to block the boy's attack. Metal clangs against metal and the harsh scraping sound sounds even worse than nails on chalkboard.

Their strength is matched, though the boy is a few inches shorter than Axel. Axel can't help smirk at the boy as he swipes his sword aside and goes to stab in the stomach. Axel sidesteps and whips his sword up, knocking one dagger out of Roxas' hand. It sticks to a mead barrel, the red liquid already spouting out. Flipping the blade out of his remaining dagger, Roxas snarls.

"You know they say if you keep a face too long it will freeze that way." Axel amuses. The boy doesn't even react. "I have a proposition for you, boy." Axel says as he keeps his blade in front of him.

"What makes you think I'll even be interested?"

"Because it will benefit you."

This perks Roxas' attention, as Axel can see his one eyebrow quirk. "Explain." The boy demands.

"We're far from your hometown, I can assure you that my boy." Axel starts. "And seeing as how you have little sense of experience on the sea, it'll be more than a challenge for you to navigate your way back home."

"Your men will help me. Whether through willingness or blood they shall."

"What makes you so sure they will listen; let alone tell truth?" Axel counters.

"They will." Roxas declares. "But you've managed to buy my attention for now. Speak of your plan, Captain."

"Simple, I know of the suicide I've placed on my head by bringing you on my ship, but I'm willing to return you home, if you can prove yourself a worthy shipmate."

"I'd sooner spread my legs and become a warm place for the cock of a nobleman!" Roxas sneers with disgust.

"Ah, but you miss the benefits of the proposition." Axel says. This time he stands normal and begins to casually approach the boy. The boy is not easily manipulated, they both know that; but he has to show the truth in his words and perhaps Roxas will at least tolerate sailing on the ship, at least until he's paid his due. "See, as I'm sure you know, we raid villages and towns, we take valuables, and on good days we raid other ships and gain supplies."

Axel rounds the boy, his sword still in hand, but his hand gestures normally as if the weapon isn't in his hand.

"We kill, we steal. Really it's no different than your life."

"You don't know me nor my life." Roxas grits.

"True, but nor do you of mine. We each only have assumptions of the other, but really, there can be surprises neither of us expected." Axel persuades.

"I can't deny that. I assumed your men to be better, yet three died with simple wounds and attacks. Pathetic."

Axel can see Xigbar approaching with a hated stare but Axel blocks him off with his arm and a glance over his shoulder.

"At least they obey like the dogs they are." Roxas says.

"Back to the point, my proposition is, if you help me gather enough coin and loot wherever we go, I will take you back to you hometown." Axel says.

"You seem to have too much confidence in me. How do you know I won't flee once we reach town? Proclaim you kidnapped me?" Roxas argues.

"With your reputation as well as your father's I would assume, even with your "connections", the boon placed upon you is too risky for you to be seen in public or open."

"I'm quick. I'm light on my feet. My father can send men or word quicker than you might think."

"Then think about this, you have skills and smarts of a thief and assassin. But what experience do you have in, persuasion? Bargaining? Ship sailing? The life of a pirate."

"I have little experience as I do care for your obscured culture."

"But I can tell you want to learn. Use it for something later, perhaps in battle once you're back home. Gain an upper hand by using moves foreign to those of the guilds." Axel continues.

Roxas' stance seems to shift, and his shoulders relax, yet he still holds the dagger out.

"Think about all the skills and knowledge that you can gain and where you can apply that. It's tempting, and I can assure you I am a man of my word." Axel finishes. "Help me, help you. Can't just take something from nothing you know."

Roxas' stance relaxes. Axel can see the thoughts configuring through his head, like the mechanics of a machine, the wheels roll and churn.

The shadows still curl around him, concealing his naked body as Axel approaches. Roxas expects him to fondle his pecks, but Axel makes no motion to him.

"What do you say boy?" he holds out his hand. "Do we have a deal?"

"How long will this last?" Roxas asks.

Axel shrugs. "As long as it takes time to rake in our coin."

"So the quicker I get this done, the sooner I can go home." Roxas affirms.

"The decision is yours as is the time."

Roxas' eyes flick to Axel's hand and back to his eyes. up this close, Axel can see they're a had concentrated shade of jade and he feels as if he's a mouse being watched by a calculating cat, but he feels no intimidation.

The corners of Roxas' mouth twitch and he switches both daggers to one hand.

He takes Axel's hand and gives it a rather too hard of a shake.

"Deal."

Axel smiles. "Excellent. Now, follow me to my cabin." Axel says as he claps and jabs a thumb over his shoulder to the Captain's cabin. "You're belongings are in a trunk in my quarters. If you're a part of this crew, you need to not be so proud."

"Oh, so it was distracting." Roxas provokes.

Axel chuckles and shakes his head. "There's hope for you yet, boy."


	8. Chapter 7

Following the Captain into his quarters, Roxas is surprised at its décor. He didn't know what to expect, but the rather, décor fit for a noble wasn't it.

Lanterns hang from the ceiling, their candles blown out due to the daylight. The color scheme was red and gold, as it decorates thin burgundy throw rug sprawled across the floor and curtains as well as embroidered pillows on cushioned bay windows seats. The slanted windows elongate the crosshatched design as the sun settles east.

There's one large table along the one side of the room, positioned in front of bookshelves. It has scattered papers, maps, a small tea set, a dagger, a pocket watch and a compass lying atop a stack of old tomes next to a brass dish filled with the ashen bodies of burned incense cones, their stale scent barely detectable. The shelves are stuffed with minimal books yet filled with many trinkets, odd and ends, bottles filled with beads and jewels and marbles and ships and handfuls of expensive jewelry lay sprawled atop the books and necks of the bottles. A short stack of parchment notebooks occupied the opposite corner, several sheets of loose paper sticking our around the edges. A mug full of pens, pencils, charcoal sticks, and paintbrushes say sandwiched between the notebooks and a bin full of multicolored paint tubes. Trunks from big to small trail along the wall, some stacked on one another.

Red velvet curtains expand along with length of the windows, then at the ends drape down brushing against the floor, tied back with gold rope and silks tassels. Antique swords are crossed at the blades and hung on the back wall along with animal heads and rare and beautiful fish. A bed is tucked near the corner against the wall, sheets sloppily draping over the edges; only one of the many pillows on the bed seems to be used, and a candle sits on a small stool next to it. All around Roxas can hear the sounds of a pub hosting the crew.

As Roxas enters, he keeps a grip on his dagger. The wood creaks as the ship slightly leans at the push of waves. Captain Axel goes over to the table, his boots clicking against the floor.

"Your things are in the trunk." He says as he sits down.

"Which one?"

Axel looks over to the lineup of trunks. "The white one." He lazily points.

Roxas looks and at first glance finds the trunk interestingly designed. It's an old white color with gray metal corners traced into exquisite floral curves, the outer rim traced in silver. Its sides and lid covered in bas-relief with delicate rose patterns. Roxas walks over and kneels in front of the trunk. The hinged lid tilted back, held at ninety degrees by two thin chains of steel in either corner.

His eyes spot his black uniform first thing, next to it, his launchers, daggers, sword and belt of throwing knives. His fingers to the launchers first and finds them all still loaded. Sighing in relief, Roxas continues to rummage the trunk and get his things. He pulls out his trousers, boots and cloak.

Axel watches as the boy fishes out all his things, seemingly unfazed by the fact he's alone with the Captain, naked in his quarters. Either he knows he can take Axel down easily, or he has no regards for his pureness. Axel has since removed the dagger from his palm and lazily wrapped it in gauze to suppress the bleeding.

He watches, leaning on one elbow, studying the boy. His back muscles expand and contrast with the movement of his arms as he unfolds the clothes. His back his marked with the same pale crosses in certain spots, as well as a scar that trails from his shoulder blade to the bottom of his spine. Axel can't even imagine what the boy had to have gone through to earn those battle wounds. Whether inflicted by enemy, or perhaps his father, they stand proud, dominating their portion of his skin.

Roxas first steps into his undergarments and trousers, not denying the pleasurable warmth that runs through him was missed, now that his skin isn't exposed. He sighs and tightens his belt, then slips on his boots, feeling the comfortable sole cushion his feet. As he clips the belt of knives to his waist, he looks back and sees the Captain now looking over a map, his cheek resting on the back of his fingers as his other hand traces along a piece of parchment. Roxas pulls on his tunic finally, and secures the light armor around it, adjusting the sleeves and pulling it down to its full length. Once he straps on his weapons, he relaxes, now feeling protected and not so admittedly vulnerable.

Clasping his cloak about his shoulders, he tries to decide what to do next. Does he stay with the Captain or go and join the crew to begin his learning?

He looks down and finds the Captain's hand still bleeding, already soaking through the white gauze, spreading like a fast blooming flower.

"You must stink at first aid." Roxas says as he comes over to the table.

"And why you say that?" Axel smirks.

"Because you'll easily bleed out if you don't treat the wound properly." Roxas points to Axel's hand.

Axel chuckles. "Merely an annoyance."

"But it will be more of a concern if you don't do something." Roxas says. Without waiting for him to remark back, Roxas goes back to the trunks and assumes that one of the smaller ones must hold medicines and first aid supplies.

Surely enough he picks the small box that tops the tower of trunks, and inside are thin vials and jars and creams, varying in color from pale green to white to buttery yellow. Syringes and ampoules and threads and needles litter the bottom. Carrying the box over to the table, Roxas sets it down.

"Thank you." Axel says. Without replying back, Roxas sits down in the next available chair and takes Axel's hand. Axel retracts. "What are you doing?"

"Fixing you up." Roxas vaguely answers.

"I don't need help."

"Your hand speaks otherwise."

Axel furrows his eyebrows. "You don't have to do this."

"I know." Roxas retorts, nearly rolling his eyes as if Axel is avoiding an obvious answer. "I want to. I inflicted the wound, I should fix it."

"Is that some rule among your guild members?" Axel asks, smirking.

Roxas takes his hand again, his face a stern look as if a doctor hard at work. "No," he finally replies. "This is my own doing. The last thing I need is have the Captain of the ship I'm captive on, die because of some stupid infection he didn't bother to fix due to his stubbornness."

The remark makes Axel smirk, but the boy's expression makes him think for a minute that he's serious.

Roxas turns Axel's hand palm up and begins to remove the gauze. He keeps his blue eyes downwards to the hand, they sparkle with a seriousness and sternness that ages him beyond his years. Axel's fingers twitch as Roxas unwraps the last few pieces of gauze. The blood has stained his skin and the cut isn't deep, but has barely stopped seeping blood. Roxas gives Axel's hand an observant glance before opening up the kit and pulling out a small rag and bottle with a pump dispenser.

Wrapping the middle of the cloth around it, he presses down and Axel can see the liquid inside squirt out into the rag. After two the three presses, Roxas then secures the rag around his pointer finger, using the others to hold it in place, and starts to wipe and pat around the wound. Axel's fingers twitch as Roxas pats closer to the wound. He expects the boy to be harsh. Rough, but his touch is so tentative and precise. Once the blood is cleared and Axel's skin clean, Roxas leans down closer to examine the wound. The cut slashes across Axel's entire palm. Thankfully though, he doesn't need stitches.

Roxas rummages through the kit again and pulls out fresh gauze and pats at Axel's palm, pressuring it to stop the bleeding. Axel grunts slightly at the sting, and expects an apology, but the boy says none. Using his thumb to keep the pressure, Roxas fetches another wrapping and begins to secure it around Axel's hand. He weaves it through the groove between Axel's thumb and pointer finger, then working his way around the wrist. Tying it on the inside of the wrist, Roxas cuts the tail with a pair of scissors and dumps the rest into the box.

Axel flexes his fingers, fisting and stretching. There's slight throbbing when applied too much strain, but other than that it won't prevent him from doing his daily duties, nor give him a disadvantage in battle.

"Thank you." says Axel.

"You're welcome." Roxas replies. He puts the kit back in its place and goes to the door, but Axle stops him.

"Hey,"

Roxas stop and turns back.

"Since we're short on men," Axel gently reminds, with a smirk on his face. "You can sleep in the crew's quarters."

Roxas doesn't react; instead he merely nods his head and exits the cabin. As Roxas leaves, he only takes two steps when he spots the other blonde-haired boy come walking up to enter the Captain's cabin. As the boys pass one another, they stop. Ventus and Roxas stop and stare at one another; Roxas keeps his gaze neutral as Ventus narrows his eyebrows. Suddenly Ventus snuffs.

"Don't expect special treatment because of your father." He says.

"I expect the same of you. Don't expect me to be respectful because I'm on this ship. You'll get it when you earn it."

Ventus glares. "If you don't, you can find yourself at the bottom of the sea."

"Do that and you risk the boon you were promised for this affair."

With that, Roxas leaves Ventus glaring and fisting his hands as he navigates himself down to the stern of the deck, then down below into the quarters. As he heads down a set of stairs, the air thickens and the salty sea freshness seems to disintegrate then fill with the exhales of the crew and the smell of mead as he heads down into the quarters. Lanterns here are lit, bathing the hall in a warm buttery glow.

Compared to his room in the mansion safe house back in the Twilight Kingdom, this one is dialed down many times. The beds are bunked atop one another and have only a sprinkling of straw with pelts and blankets and thin pillows. There are three of the bunk beds on both sides of the room, making a total of twelve, though half remain vacant. Most likely the men Roxas murdered on instinct when he first came on the ship.

The men seemed to already be broken off into their groups, and the messy sheets helped Roxas to decipher who sleeps where. One of the men, Demyx, has wrapped himself in his blanket, a part covering his head and draping around his body, looking like a little pig in blanket. At least there are windows dotting between the beds, allowing the sea air to drift out the body odor that would have easily mad Roxas gag. If the men smell this way, it's clear they don't bathe often, let alone when they do, how tainted the water might become.

Thankfully again his father had trained him to live on foul conditions. With his connections around the Kingdom, Roxas was able to experience from sleeping on the cold hard ground, tucked away in the back of an alley with nothing to eat but the scrap farmers' fed their livestock, to sleeping on the finest silks ever to be delivered while dining on nine course meals while watching exotic dancers twirls and spin.

He can handle this. And now he figures out why Demyx had told him about the sea animals supplementing his diet.

Glancing around the quarters, it would seem that there's a vacant bed in the back left corner when facing the room. It was neat and had the sheet lain across like so often seen in taverns. Roxas makes his way over casually, avoiding the gazes and sudden hushed tones of the crewmen. He keeps the hilt of his knife in his grasp should the crewmen try anything, even while he's sleeping. Roxas certainly doesn't have a problem murdering more of the crew.

As he sits down, he hears footsteps approach him. Keeping his head down he sees two black shoes stop in front of him. Roxas looks up and sees Demyx leaning against the wooden frame. Roxas furrows his eyebrows as he sees the bruising on his neck. Demyx doesn't say anything, neither does Roxas. He doesn't feel the need to apologize, despite the dirty blonde trying to make him feel bad.

"At least it'll make you look tough." Roxas says.

"You saying I didn't look touch before?" Demyx asks, and Roxas looks up to see the man smiling. It's something peculiar to Roxas as he has nothing to smile about.

"Yes." Roxas answers.

"Jeez, no holding back from you, huh?"

"There's no point in lying to you. I'm not helping you in sparing your feelings."

"Well would it kill you to try and spare a person's feelings?"

Roxas doesn't answer. Instead he observes Demyx as he still leans against the legs of the bunk bed, his fingers twirling a small dagger. Roxas' eyes flick from the dagger to Demyx.

"I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what you're thinking."

"Not that you could."

Demyx snickers a little and suddenly comes and sits next to Roxas. He sits at the other end of the bed, but still Roxas fidgets, but not from nerves; his motion may appear to the men otherwise, but really his shift aided him in keeping his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"You still didn't answer my question." Demyx says as he leans slightly in.

Roxas looks to the man and stares. He expects Demyx to divert his eyes, but he meets Roxas' gaze and lifts his eyebrows ushering him for an answer.

"I'll ask you again, do you ever think you spare a person's feelings?"

"I'll answer that with this . . . Why do you care?" Roxas narrows his eyebrows.

This time, when Roxas leans in, Demyx leans back, his eyebrows still raised in surprise.

"What?"

"Why do you care? I'm no crewmember, I bruise your next, yet you talk to me. Why?"

Demyx stares at Roxas, his mouth is slightly agape. He swallows before answering. "I'm . . . I'm just curious. I've never met anyone like you."

"What do you mean like me?" Roxas leans more, a predatory gleam growing in his eyes, and suddenly Demyx shifts uneasy as he stares into the eyes of what he soon sees become a tiger.

"I mean, you're still young, granted with the skill and knowledge of a man. I mean, I'd imagine your father couldn't have been easy to grow up with."

Demyx has barely finished the sentence as the world abruptly becomes a blur of images and suddenly his spine is slammed into the hard wood floor. He bangs his head and with the throbbing his eyes go unfocused. Roxas is suddenly pinning him to the floor, the men around the room are all standing, their hands on their weapons, but they wait.

Demyx looks up and sees anger along with a killer instinct inside Roxas' eyes and a chill begins at the bottom of his spine, running up as Roxas brings the tip of his knife to the skin just under Demyx's throat.

"You . . . will not . . . speak ill of my father!" Roxas deeply hisses through grit teeth. "_Everything_ he did made me the man I am today."

Demyx swallows.

"I am on hundred percent sure of that." The movement scrapes his skin across Roxas' blade. The pain is sharp and quick, and a hot trickle of blood slowly snakes its way down Demyx' neck.

"You will _not_ speak ill of him, _ever_! He is the King of our criminal empire, and since he won't be here to defend his name, I will."

Roxas digs the tip more into Demyx's neck; his blade tip digs into Demyx's chin, and tears sting his eyes. More pain. More blood.

"Any words you keep to yourself, I will cut your lying tongues!"

With that, he suddenly gets up and Demyx gasps, his hand holding his neck. Roxas makes his way back to the bed and sits down, wiping his blade with his cloak.

"I'm sorry." He hears Demyx croak. "It was . . . supposed to be a joke."

"You need not be so uptight boy," says Luxord. "Here we have, not many rules, but loosen up. The boy was only trying to make a friend of you."

As Roxas starts to settle into the bed, he mumbles. "No thank you."

* * *

Back in the Twilight Kingdom, in the safe house mansion, Cloud anxiously and angrily paces back and forth in front of the grand fireplace of the study room. His cloak flaps and whips as he whirls and turns back and forth. Lexaeus sits in one of the velvet armchairs, the ankle of his one legs propped on the knee of his other. He nibbles at his thumb nail.

Roxas was extremely late in his return from killing the men who had started the riot in the marketplace. After the first minute, Cloud sent out nearly all the men to scour the streets and check all the spots, his own men check all the spots known to their guild, Cloud not willing to disclose the information of all their guild's hidey-holes to the rest of the guilds. He sent them out nearly forty-five minutes ago, and despite his knowledge of the city, he hasn't sat down for longer than a minute as he waits for the men to return with his son.

His son knows better than to show up late for anything, so he knows, or hopes that for his son's sake, something terrible must've happened. At the same time, his heart hopes that the boy had gotten hold up by something.

"Ring the bells. If you keep pacing up and down, you'll wear through your boots." Lexaeus says.

Cloud doesn't look in his direction, instead he slows his pace but refuses to sit down. "I swear, if another member of another guild laid a single hair on my son . . ."

"Calm, sir." Saix says as he flips through a book he had long since pulled of the shelf. "You're boy is smart and strong."

"All the more reason he should be here."

"You trained him well, Cloud. Whatever situation he might have gotten himself in, I'm sure he's already thinking of ways he can escape and brag about it to the guild." Saix says, flipping another page.

"At this time, I'd like to offer my humblest apologies, Cloud." Lexaeus says. "I should have gone with him."

"No, no." Cloud sighs. "Don't blame yourself. Even if I had sent you, he would've lost you easily, or think that I don't believe in him to handle a few sea shanty men."

"Perhaps he ran into some guards and decided another safe house would've been better." Lexaeus suggests, hoping to ease the Guild master's nerves.

As Cloud stops in front of the fireplace, he places a hand on the marble mantel, the other on his hip and heaves a sigh. Then the door opens and in steps Zexion, Seifer One, Cid and Larxene; each having a face that already tells of their failure.

Zexion is the first to speak. "We've combed all the safe houses and alleys part of our territory, I'm afraid there's no sign of Roxas." He lowers his head as he finishes his sentence.

"Thank you, Zexion. You're dismissed."

Zexion leaves the room, shutting the door noiselessly behind him. Now with Saix and Lexaeus, the guild masters stand in the study.

"You checked all your alleys and houses." Cloud asks as he stares into the fire.

"All of them. None have shown signs of your son's presence." Cid says.

"Did you _really_ check?"

Lexaeus shifts, the tone in his voice rises in agitation.

"I've trained him well, so of course none of you would be able to find him."

"Not like he's know where our safe houses are," Seifer One says suddenly. "Exploration of other Guild territories is forbidden, don't you remember."

There's a moment of silence and Cloud narrows his eyebrows, carefully glancing out of the corner of his eye. "Yes." Cloud says. "Still, perhaps . . . he wandered off."

"You claim your son isn't idiotic to make such an amateur move." Cid says. "Perhaps he was taken."

"Did you not just say that my son is too crafty?" Cloud snarls as he whirls to look over his shoulder. "Never would he lose to such low lives such as pirates."

"And just how much knowledge does he have of the sea men?" Larxene asks.

"Enough on how to kill them should the scurvy-infected men try to make a move toward shim." Cloud sneers.

"Never underestimate your opponent, Cloud." Saix speaks. "Perhaps the boy had too much confidence."

Cloud goes quiet, and so far the only crackling of the fire. "Shit." he whispers. "I thought he could handle it."

"You shouldn't constantly blame yourself for the failure of your son, Cloud." Saix continues. "You wish for him to be perfect, but taking his blame isn't making him any more perfect than a man passing off mead for wine."

"The boy has faults," Lexaeus adds. "Everyone does. But only failure can seemingly put them in check."

Cloud sighs. "Nevertheless, I want my son home and safe. If I lose, him, it will be by my doing, not by some dirtied blade of a sleazy sailor. "You're all dismissed, I will make note of your corporation. Dismissed."

Once the guild leaders leave, Saix stands up and goes over to the bookshelf to put back the book he borrowed. "So, Master Cloud, what will your plan be?"

"I'm getting my son back."

"May I ask how." Saix places his hands on his hips.

Cloud is silent, then turns to Lexaeus, ignoring Saix. "Lexaeus, fetch me the good parchment, and a quill. I'm sending word out to our, acquaintances. I need them all on alert should the pirates decide to stop in their cities."

"Yes sir."

Lexaeus bows and leaves, and when he leaves the door open behind him, Saix looks back and then to Cloud. "Anything I can do, sir?"

"If you or anyone captures the men, inform me, and bring me their captain. No one else must kill him. That pleasure will be mine, and mine alone."

Saix bows and leave the study.

Alone with the crackling of the fire, Cloud watches intently.

"Soon, my son. I will bring you home."

As he peaks, a log in the fire cracks and snaps, erupting a spew of embers.


	9. Chapter 8

Roxas' senses awaken slowly, stirring a ripple in the dark pool of his slumber. He keeps his eyes closed, but his ears twitch. He hears his father's voice.

"_Tell me again_." He speaks.

"_Adapt or die_." Roxas says. It's a phrase his father had first taught him when he started training at the age of eight. He would constantly have Roxas repeat it, having it be his one phrase that applies to everything he does.

"_Think on your feet_."

"_Even when I'm sleeping_."

The wood creaks and Roxas moves his eyes under his lids. Concentrating his hearing, he hears the footsteps approach his bed. Even with his eyes closed, he can tell the cabin is dark. The sounds of the waves are muffled. The footsteps are trying to be quiet, even with the creaking wood, but compared to the Roxas' knowledge and skill, it's a failure.

There's the soft whisper of metal.

_Just one more step_, he thinks to himself.

He feels the tip of a knife brush his ear.

Suddenly Roxas whips his arm up smacking the forearm away and moving it down so that Roxas can grab the wrist and deliver a jab into his perpetrator's ribcage. The person grunts and Roxas throws the man to the ground, snatching his knife from his hand. Pinning him to the ground, Roxas' forearm pinning his neck, the tip of the knife against one temple, Roxas snarls.

"Wow," the man grunts. "you're really good."

Roxas' eyes widen but his eyebrows exaggerate aggravation. "Demyx?"

"Hey, you know my name." he breathes a nervous laugh.

Roxas gets up and groans in annoyance. "God dammit." He swears. He twirls the knife so the blade is in between his pointer and middle fingers. "What the fuck is the matter with you?!" As he speaks, he thrusts the dagger down, sticking it into the wood, narrowly missing Demyx's groin area. He flinches and squeaks.

"I was just trying to wake you up."

"You were trying to kill me!" Roxas states.

"I can explain." Demyx holds out one hand in defense.

"The hell you'd better."

"Look, I was sent down by the captain to wake you up. It's morning. And . . . well with me being an idiot, I wanted to see, how, I don't know, on edge you are."

"What?"

"I guess I wanted to see how well you're trained, if that makes sense."

"No it doesn't and you should've known by now _how_ well I am trained." Roxas sneers. "Or did the disappearing crewmates mean nothing to you?"

"Jeez, no need to be so uptight. I was just having some fun. Don't you know how to have fun?"

He rubs his eyes and chin, sighing. He makes his way to the front of the room, where the only source of light is coming from the upper deck; all the other windows are sealed off with blinds no one seemed to bother to open. A chill sends goose pimples across Roxas' skin until he adjusts his cloak around his shoulders. He hears Demyx follow behind him and once he's upstairs, Roxas is blinded for a few seconds from the sunlight. Squinting his eyes and shielding them with his hand, Roxas smells the salty sea and hears the crew calling to one another and the sound of sails flapping.

Once his eyes adjust, Roxas shakes his head, adjusting his hair and looks around at the bright daylight. Things seemed calm as Demyx follow up behind him.

"Captain Axel wants to see you in his quarters." Roxas look over to find him carrying a lute on his back. He catches Roxas looking and smiles. "You like to sing?"

"No."

Demyx shrugs, seemingly unbothered and continues down the three steps to the main deck. From there he says his greetings to a couple crewmen hoisting the lower sails. He then proceeds to sit on a barrel and strums his instrument. As he begins to sing, the crewmen all laugh and poke at one another as he sings.

"_Weigh-hay and up she rises. Weigh-hay and up she rises. Weigh-hay and up she rises. Early in the morning_!"

"What will we do with a drunken sailor, what will we do with a drunken sailor. What will we do with a drunken sailor, Early in the morning?" Demyx sings.

Roxas continues down the steps and watches as the men, scouring what they're doing to see if anything peeks of his interest as he heads for the Captain's cabin. Men hoist sails, load cannons, but most lean against the railing of the ship and chat amongst one another. Roxas looks up and sees a man high up in the crow's nest, a small spyglass in his hand, fidgeting with it as he looks left and right.

Making it to the Captain's quarters, Roxas doesn't bother looking through the window or knocking as he pushes the door in. "You wanted to see me?"

Captain Axel, positioned at his table, setting out lines on a map look up with raised eyebrows; across his nose of a pair of glasses. Ventus, sitting in the back of the room, looks up from a book he's reading.

"Ah, yes I did." Captain Axel says. He takes off his glasses and sets them across the stack of books off to his right. "I was wondering how you're first night was, seeing as how you aren't built for life on the sea."

"Says who? And I swear I will be the death of your men." Roxas says as he makes himself at home and goes over to the available seat and sits down, propping his feet up on the table. To his credit, it's not smearing dirt on papers nor is it crushing any valuable trinkets so Axel doesn't say anything.

Ventus sitting in the corner, lowers his book more and looks to Roxas. "Don't you mean they'll be the death of you?" He corrects.

"I doubt it. Like I'd ever die at their hands, unskilled and uncontrolled." Roxas counters. "And besides that Demyx's stupidity, I've been through worse."

"Good to hear." Axel says as he keeps his eyes on Roxas. Roxas folds his arms and looks up, meeting Axel's gaze. He has to admit, the man had . . . entrancing eyes. Axel smiles, and even gives a soft breathy laugh as he gets up. Roxas watches as he goes over to a small dresser where there's another English tea set. "Now, another reason why I called you here is because we'll be approaching land soon."

Roxas takes his feet down and look out of his peripherals to see Ventus come closer, sitting at a bay window, reopening his book. Roxas watches as Axel pours some warm water into a cup. Featuring a modern swirl design, each piece is decorated on white porcelain with a mauve and yellow floral pattern and gold edging.

"Since we'll be in town soon, and it's obvious we can't trust one another, I'm appointing you an escort." Axel says.

"I don't need a babysitter, even so, I can and will easily elude them." Roxas retorts.

Axel's hands, almost smoothly adds a small bag attacked to a string into the cup, dipping it twice before he takes a small pitcher and pours some milk into cup as well. Then after carefully stirring it with a spoon, he brings the two cups over, handing one to Roxas. Eyeing it before looking back up to Axel's cool expression, Roxas takes the plate, clasping the warm cup between his wrists. Ventus lower his book more and watches the two men. Axel takes his seat back at the table, his forefinger folding around the handle of the cup and taking a delicate sip.

"I understand, and you must understand that if you should be on this ship, at least until we reach our destination of your hometown, then there needs to be a form of, bond as I share with the rest of my crewmen."

"I don't trust easily. That should be obvious." Roxas says as he takes a sip.

"Of course. So I'm willing to take the first step in forming the bond, and how is, I'm going to let you roam free when we reach town."

This catches both Roxas' and Ventus' attention as they both snap their heads at attention and says, "What?!" In perfect unison. Then they easily begin to overlap one another with their arguments; or more rather Ventus denying it while Roxas questions Axel if he is being truthful.

Axel silences the boys with both his hands, waving them down and shushing the boys. Ventus stands next to Roxas and Roxas leans forward.

In this moment, Axel eyes both of them and is still surprised at how alike they look, yet neither of them seem to care. Roxas' hair seems, almost faded compared to Ventus; that meaning it almost looks as if someone has leached out Roxas' hair color, leaving it a light sandy color, as opposed to Ventus which is a beautiful golden yellow. Ventus' skin is smooth whereas Roxas seems to be callus with thickened skin and scars and years of battle.

"I am serious, boys. If we are to establish a bond with an esteemed man such as Roxas, we should show him such respect."

"No disrespect sir, but I worry you have too much confidence in the boy." Ventus says.

"As I would agree." Roxas adds.

"I see it as a more of testing loyalty." Axel rephrases. "I'm showing you that I trust you, and more importantly I see it as enhancing my word to you. By treating you like a crewman and not a prisoner, I feel that we can at least have a mutual respect. And should you get lost in the city, I would assume you have enough commons sense to ask a local how to get back to the docks."

"Will you wait, should something like this happen?" Roxas asks.

"Of course, I see no other way for you to get home without risking your identity." Axel smiles. "But I warn you, we meet back at the ship at twilight. Should you still not be there by the time the sun has settled beyond the horizon, I can't guarantee we will still be docked. Can you do it boy?"

Roxas quirks an eyebrow at the challenge. "I will. It really feels no different than how my father trained me." He admits.

"Always seemed to throw you in the deep end? Make you swim?" Axel asks taking another sip.

Roxas looks down at the soft brown water in the cup, eyes softening, his wrists seemingly leaching the warmth from it. "And make me dive, and tread, and float and paddle."

As Axel's ready to ask another question, the door opens to the cabin and in barges Luxord, his eyes wide. "Captain! We've spotted a tradesman ship off the port bow! Shall we intercept?"

Roxas sets the cup aside and slowly stands as Axel gets up from his seat and fetches his gun. He walks out of the cabin, and with a quick glance back, Ventus hurries past Roxas – practically bumping into him as he heads out. Roxas follows, but more with a quick walk rather than a jog as opposed to Ventus.

Coming out on the deck, Axel, Luxord and Ventus line up along the wood railing and Roxas steps up to Luxord and sees the tall masts of the ship. The sails seem cleaner than their own and the ship relatively looking more polished. The stern is facing their ship and it may not appear they find this ship a threat yet. Men on the ship's deck eye the crewmen wearily, but seem to pay no attention.

"Captain!" a man calls and looking down, Roxas sees a tall, well-built man with sky-blue eyes. He has spiky black hair and bangs framing the sides of his face, and a lock of hair hanging down in front of his face. On his cheek is an X-shaped scar and his ear has a silver ring. "What shall we do?" he asks with a sly smile on his face.

Before Axel can decide, Roxas suddenly hops down onto the main deck and sprints across the expanse.

"Roxas!" Demyx calls, but Axel lays a hand on the Demyx's shoulder. He looks back and sees the Captain has an observing look on his face as he watches the boy; almost waiting to see what he will do.

Roxas continues to sprint down the deck, the crewmen parting a way for him when he leaps up high, flipping forward and landing softly on the very tip bowsprit on his toes. He crouches down and watches the ship. Axel takes the three steps down to the main deck and orders Xigbar to take the wheel. As he walks, he stops by the cannons.

"Captain," Zack repeats. "What shall we do?"

Axel grins. "Give them a warm welcome."

As if on cue, Marluxia lights the fuse of the cannon and a couple men lower the sails to gain wind and catch up to the ship. With Roxas all the way on the bowsprit, he remains crouched, watching the men. The shift in speed doesn't even sway him, but as the ship levels with the other vessel, he slowly rises to stand, two of his daggers in his hands. He pulls his mask up over his nose, then his hood.

Leveling with the ship, Roxas can see the bow has a beautiful long-haired mermaid carved into its wood. Her scaly tail sweeping the length of the bow and disappearing into the foaming waves. Her eyelids, heavy and drooping, veiled her downcast eyes, which seemed as though they wanted to close. Her hair, etched with care in minute curving lines, is billowing around her head in a smooth motions as if picked up by the wind.

A cannon fires, and Roxas feels the wood beneath him vibrate. There's the sound of an explosion, and suddenly the other ship's deck is covered in smoke and the men are flurrying about like bees of a hive as they try to take damage control and others adjusting the main and fore sails to try and get away.

Roxas sees his chance. He jumps off the bowsprit and heads down the deck, nudging his way through the men carefully. He hops up on one cannon and running down the vent, he pushes off its muzzle and he's in the air - no drawbridge lowered – and lands on the cannon on the other ship. He landed on the cannon, the men jumping back startled as Roxas stays crouched like a predator hiding in grass before pouncing.

Axel calls the men to cease fire and he can feel the stares of the crew burn through his leather cloak. He lifts his head and eyes all the crewmembers of the rival ship. Smoke is still wafting around the deck and Roxas can feel the ship shift, no doubt the cannonball creating a hole in the starboard side.

One crewman shouts and Roxas leaps instantly and rounds off, back flipping twice into a trio of men. Instantly he brings his dagger up and is stabs into the soft skin underneath one man's throat. Yanking it free, Roxas whirls flipping the blade, slamming another crewman in the side of the head with the hilt of his dagger, then slicing at the jugular. For the third crewman, he tries to actually swing at Roxas, but with a sword that's too long for him. Roxas simply ducks down and when the crewman tries to nick him, Roxas jumps up, roundhouse kicking the man before ducking low to avoid a swipe of a fourth man. Roxas kicks him in the stomach and he's lashed back, slapping into the mainmast of one ship.

All that's heard from Roxas is the flapping and whooshing of his cape.

"Captain . . .!" Luxord exclaims.

"Let him be . . ." Axel coos.

The crewmen are now shouting, a mixture of fear and astonishment, calling to the Captain for aid. Still there is no return fire, and all the men on Axel's ship stand still, though they itch for a taste of battle.

Roxas' hands twitch, and four smaller throwing knives are in between his knuckles. He whips his arms and a handful of men scream and fall, the tips of the knives sinking into eyes, knees and arms. Roxas charges forward and sheathing daggers, draws his swords. He slashes and swipes at the injured men, and they each fall to the deck dead of in pain, blood pooling out from under their bodies. He spins and twirls as two men approach him.

One wields a scimitar and Roxas blocks each of his parries before slashing at the man's wrist. He drops his weapon and Roxas drives his blade up and lacerates the man's face. He screams and falls, blood pouring from where his nose was. A second approaches and Roxas sweeps low, kicking the man's feet out from under him, his weapons scuttling out of his hands. Roxas whirls leaping and kicking the man in the back of the head, driving him to his knees. The other man stands but Roxas is there stabbing his thigh three times before stabbing his blade into the man's cheek. The man now with no nose still somehow gets a shaky grip on a sword and swings. Roxas ducks, then rams his head upwards and grabs the man's head, driving his knee into the bloody carnage that was his nose. Roxas finishes him by grabbing the man's neck and twirling a throwing knife, stabs the man through the neck and to the mainmast.

Only three men remain, excluding the captain. Roxas can see his outline at the stern of the ship, but doesn't bother trying to find out who he is. All he can see is that he wears a long, red coat with a tricot hat and white feather. Roxas chucks eight more daggers and the men can't block all so even if one deflects, others sink into flesh.

Roxas sheaths all his weapons and sprints towards the back. The captain draws a gun similar to Axel's, but with different custom features. Roxas manages to kick up a sword from one of the dead crew and spins it between hands as he hears the bangs and booms of the weapon. It's seems like the thing has endless shots, but each one is deflected by steel. Soon the gun makes a clicking sound and the Captain's expression is worrisome.

Before he can even draw his sword, a rapier with a silver hilt, with a sickening, wet thunk, Roxas' borrows sword drives into the man's chest, burying itself to the hilt. The man screams and fall limp, his body already convulsing. Blood poured from the wound, dark crimson. Roxas tosses him to the ground unceremoniously and the Captain's legs slap against the floor, feet kicking aimlessly with onrushing death. Roxas gazes into the captain's eyes, a whirlpool of brown and green. The man shakes uncontrollably, blood everywhere.

"Sorry, captain." Roxas says as he yanks the sword free and the man falls to the floor, gagging on his blood and gasping for breath. "You're _my_ prisoner now."

"Who . . . who are you?" he gags. Red spit oozed from between his lips.

Blood trickled out of his nose and mouth.

Roxas approaches and kneels beside the man. "It's none of your goddamn business."

The Captain's eyes roll up in their sockets, dull white orbs. His eyes close, his body went limp. One last breath wheezes from his mouth. Roxas licks the corner of his mouth and brushes aside the man's jacket, finding a golden emblem necklace with an emerald gem at the center. In his pocket is a coin purse. Roxas takes both, leaving the sword in the man's stomach.

One last look shows the man's guns. Taking on in hand, Roxas stares at the weapon. Never in his life did he expect to admire such a weapon. It feels dangerous to him.

The ship suddenly jerks left. Roxas drops low, keeping his balance as he feels a rush of air. He grits teeth and squints to Axel's ship. The men now lower wooden plank bridges and run across to the ship.

"Whoa." Demyx breathes in astonishment.

Roxas remains casually standing while the men come aboard and adjust the fore sail and climb the shrouds. Roxas walks to the edge of the stairs and watches as Axel and Ventus are the last to cross the bridge and compared to the men, they walk casually aboard as the men raid the ship.

"Impressive boy." Xigbar says giving a slap on Roxas' back, earning him a sneer.

"And very . . . overwhelming." Zack comically adds as he drags Xigbar to the lower bowels of the ship.

"Are we claiming this ship as our own?" Marluxia asks, a sly smile on his lips.

"This ship shows little promise. We'll just take everything and sink the ship." Axel decides.

Roxas walks over to Axel and Ventus, who is in a way hiding behind Axel.

"Now that . . . was very impressive." Axel compliments.

"It was fun. I needed the amusement." Roxas says, though Axel can detect the slightest twitch in the corners of his mouth.

"I think you'll make affine crewmen."

"Don't get used to it. I'm still indentured to you until we reach home, or until I meet the coin." As if on cue, he tosses Axel the coin purse and pendant. "I'm just trying to make the most of it while I can."

Axel examines the purse and tucks it away inside his jacket. He doesn't say anything as Roxas crosses the wooden bridge and back over to the ship. The only thing Axel can see are the guns he took from the captain.

"He's strong." Ventus says wearily.

"Let's see how he handles the town." Axel says to Ventus as they both look. Axel looks back at all the dead bodies lying in blood on the deck, Ventus nearly gagging "But so far, I can't say I'm not impressed."


	10. Chapter 9

They reached the town by mid-afternoon.

The docks are bustling, leading right up to the heart of the marketplace. There is a herald standing at the docks, greeting any guests that arrive with a smile and a welcome to the Destiny Isles. Roxas barely remembers visiting this town when he accompanied his father, though it wasn't because he wanted to take Roxas anywhere, more like a business trip than a vacation. Not that Roxas has evener thought about having let alone going on a vacation.

Roxas peeks through one of Captain's windows as the herald greets Marluxia and Luxord. As he moves away, he spots Ventus adjusting his tunic before pulling on a black vest and a beret hat. Roxas simply flicks his hood up over his head. Axel was the first to leave the ship as it docked, and left the crew to do what they please but reminded they be back by twilight.

"You should change." Ventus says. Roxas looks over and finds the boy fixing his hair and a mirror.

"I should, but I choose not to. What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Roxas asks as she places the gun he obtained from the captain of the rival ship inside one of Axel's many trunks.

Ventus looks to him as he buttons his black vest. "You don't think that your attire isn't, intimidating . . .?"

"That's the point. You'd rather I ditch my clothes of reputation and pride for those of filthy sea-hag men on a rotten tub?"

"Well, what if someone recognizes you?" Ventus points out.

"Guards and people can be bought." Roxas counters.

Ventus sighs. "You're pretty confident in what you do, huh?"

"As did my father teach me. As long as I act like I'm not suspicious, then there's no reason for anyone to be suspicious of me." Roxas wipes clean his daggers, all of which be obtained once more after the men looted the bodies of the entire crew he slain. Ventus look at Roxas and can't help but lean his head to the side on observation. Roxas catches him glancing. "What?"

Ventus' cheeks flush pink and he nervously clears his throat. "Um . . . don't you think it's weird that we look, alike?" he asks.

Roxas looks to him momentarily before shrugging his shoulders. "I admit, it is strange, but what are you going to do. I mean, thinking about it isn't going to change it."

"But you're not curious?"

"Not at all."

"Why?" Ventus presses.

Roxas looks to him in bewilderment and rather annoyance. "Well, yeah it's weird we look alike, but I have no memory of you, and you have no memory of me so why bother? We just look alike. There's probably someone who looks like Axel too, heck even Demyx."

"A clone of Demyx, now that's scary." Ventus jokes, and surprisingly when he chuckles, he hears it be accompanied by Roxas' soft laugh. "Hey, I made you laugh."

Roxas' smile doesn't fade, even when he rolls his eyes. "Congratulations."

As he heads for the door, Ventus bites his lip before trotting after, and catching up to him as they leave. "Hey listen, you mind, walking around together?"

Roxas looks to him with a quirked eyebrows, but he doesn't look annoyed. "If you wanted company, why not just leave with the Captain?" Roxas asks.

"I thought I'd leave with the rest of the crew, but I don't know, I just don't like wandering around towns alone." Ventus explains.

"Not like you're some street whore," Roxas says. "You have a weapon, use it if you have to. Or at least flash it so they now you're armed."

"Well yeah but -"

"But what? If you want to be like the rest of the men, then act like it. And if it makes you feel comfortable, just stick to the shops close to the ship." Roxas adds.

"I guess."

"Why do you look so conflicted?"

"Well, it's like you said, I'm, conflicted because I want to be like there rest of the crewmen. Ready for battle and eager to see the next town, but at the same time it's just not me." Ventus explains.

As the boys talk, they begin to wander off the ship together and onto the docks. Demyx comes up behind them, Ventus giving his greetings, Roxas nodding his head in acknowledgment.

"You shouldn't have to feel like you need to, be different in order to fit in."

"Says the boy who killed and _entire_ crew of _men_ within _minutes_. You have reasons to be confident with yourself, even with your shoulder wound that crew didn't show you down." Demyx interjects as he pops the collar of his jacket.

"I was trained that way, and my point is, be confident with who your are."

"Even if they tease me about being weak?" Ventus asks.

"You may be weak when it comes to blood and blades, but perhaps that's because your strengths lie somewhere past battle." Roxas vindicates. "I mean, you have a young face, perhaps your talents lies in manipulation or deception."

"Well, how do I figure out what it is?"

Roxas chuckles. "That's something you need to figure out yourself."

The three men leave the boat together and strangely, Roxas isn't at all annoyed, not even seeming like he's tolerating their company. He stays with them as they wander up the steps and Demyx takes the lead taking them right and further into the maze of stalls. It looks as if the town is preparing for a Summer Festival. There's more merriment than normal and banners have been strung up connecting buildings opposite of one another, standing face to face like partners ready for a waltz.

As the crowd thickens, Ventus instinctively goes to reach for a hand, as he normally would when he would walk with Captain Axel. What he didn't see is that he went for Roxas' hand, and realizes his mistake seconds after. Roxas wrenches his hand away and glares at Ventus.

Ventus lowers his head, his cheeks warm. "Sorry."

Around them, the whole aura of the town seemed upbeat and rather welcoming. Roxas' eyes scour the buildings and shops. He walks with his hood up and the holographic emblem of his guild on his back. He doesn't notice it until he sees that Demyx and Ventus are no longer at his side. He look behind and sees them walking behind him, and when Roxas looks back ahead, he sees people parting their ways, allowing a straight path to wherever their destination may be.

"Any idea where your Captain may be?" Roxas asks.

"I'm not his dog." Ventus remarks.

"You behavior says otherwise."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ventus challenges as he walks level with Roxas.

"It means that you follow the captain around, sticking to his side like a lovesick puppy."

"L-Lovesick?! You must be joking!" Ventus corrects.

"I don't joke."

"I won't deny I like to accompany the Captain, but I assure you it's so that I can keep him calm." Ventus defends.

"I have to tell you, you do seem affectionate towards the Captain, as he is towards you." Demy suddenly chimes in, the boys nearly forgetting he was there. They turn their attention away for what feels like moment and already he has his arms full of flowers and bagged food and breads.

"No one asked for your opinion!" Ventus snaps, causing Demyx to snicker.

"Look, there's nothing wrong with liking your captain." Demyx continues.

"I don't like him!"

"Then you shouldn't be acting to defensive." Roxas points out.

Demyx laughs as Ventus groans in aggravation and aimlessly wanders over to a stand selling leather shoes. Roxas chuckles, his lips morphing in a small smile as Demyx scarfs down a bit of raisin bread. Roxas can spy the other crew members walking about the streets, others waling into not so pleasant looking buildings, their coin pockets, heavy.

No doubt with the people preparing for the festival there will be lots of pockets to pick.

Roxas can't help but smile. He manages to slip away from Demyx and morph himself into the crowd. As people line up, Roxas ripples his fingers and smoothly walks past the people. His hands suddenly billow shadows and his hands jerk forward and he snatches the pockets. Roxas is nearly towards the seamstress shop, located near the back of the main road, his pockets already heavy with the stolen money, when his name is called.

"Roxas!"

The voice rings out and startles Roxas to the point where he drops the bag. Demyx comes trotting up, and Roxas goes up smoothly ramming his knee into Demyx' stomach; hard enough to lower him to his knees and stuff him in an alleyway next to a pile of sacks of flowers. He goes to pick up the coin purse, but as he tries to walk on, he bumps into the body of the man.

Roxas quickly clears his throat. "Um, you dropped this, sir." He forces himself to say.

The man looks at Roxas wearily first, then he smiles. He takes the purse and opens it. "How nice to meet such an honest young man." He fishes out a single gold coin and drops it in Roxas' hand.

Roxas forces himself to smile and waves as the man turns and walks off. He gives a soft laugh, but when the man is out of hearing range, he snarls. He goes back to Demyx who is already on his feet, dusting flour off himself. Roxas grabs him by the collar and hooks his elbow around Demyx's neck.

"What do you think you're doing?" he snarls then shoves Demyx aside. "I'm trying to work here."

"What do you mean work?" Demyx wrestles himself free.

"I mean _my_ work." Roxas says as he continues down the line and effortlessly picks pockets. With Demyx at his side, he actually blocks the crowd on the opposite sidewalk from seeing what he's doing. This in his mind, Roxas tolerates Demyx glancing over his shoulder, eyeing his work; in fact, Roxas doesn't mind showing off a bit. They run into Ventus at a candy stand and Demyx nudges him to go with them. All three men can't help but notice a black cat with icy green eyes looking at them

As they reach an intersection leading into the western portion of the market, Roxas needs to divide some of the coin since he's run out of compartments in his uniform. The cat still hasn't left, and even when Demyx leads the boys over to a stand selling fruits and vegetables, the cat emerges from the shadows alleyways and comes up to Roxas. It nudges its head against his ankle, purring and head-butting his leg.

"I think it likes you." Ventus says with a smile.

Roxas kneels down and extends out his hand to let the cat sniff as it proper cat etiquette.

"Hey puss, puss. Puss, puss." Roxas coos.

The feline sniffs and then rubs its cheek against Roxas' hand and Roxas scratches behind its ear. For a moment, Ventus fears for the cat, thinking Roxas so cold he might strangle the feline. But to his surprise, Roxas scratches and pets the feline, the cat even walking, rubbing and purring between his legs. Roxas smiles, and for a moment, Ventus can't believe how different a smile gesture can make someone look. It transforms Roxas into someone you don't want to fight, to someone you actually want to get to know.

He nudges the cat until it purrs around his ankles again before scurrying off into an alleyway.

"Hmm, guess that's it." Ventus chuckles. He turns to join Demyx in observing the woman's watermelons and pears.

Roxas looks back and taking a few careful steps first, when neither of them turn around, Roxas turns and begins to job after the cat. He enters the alleyway and after turning a left, he finds the cat sitting, its tail tapping the cobblestone. "You'd better not lead me into a dark hole." Roxas warns.

The cat meows and starts to run down straight. Roxas follows, darting through alleys, cutting back and forth as if to lose a pursuer. Roxas' path remains steadily eastward, regardless of how crooked and curved. Once Roxas realizes this, he begins to shrink the distance by taking a more direct route.

_Where are you taking me?_ he wonders.

Roxas rounds one final corner and finds the cat gone. Roxas, puzzled, looks around and up. He finds the cat up on a fire escape, a metal ladder strung high. Roxas jumps up, clinging the metal rungs and quickly climbs up to the rooftop. The cat meows and then hops down onto a wooden banister and walks across, stopping at a window on the other side. Roxas sighs and follows, keeping an eye on the shuffle of his feet as he follows. As he looks down, he sees the street of where he was with Ventus and Demyx, both of who are now gone, probably looking for him. Townspeople mingle and laugh and children chase one another down the street.

When he reaches the window, the cat sits on the ledge. Pulling out his dagger, Roxas sticks it under the window and wriggles it before jerking it down a prying the window up. As Roxas opens it wider, the cat jumps in and Roxas follows, closing it behind him. Finding himself in an attic, Roxas follows the cat, peering right into another room, filled with cages of birds. The can easily maneuvers through, its presence not even disturbing the murder of crows.

Following the cat's direction, Roxas spots a painting at the end of the room. Knowing such a beautiful painting wouldn't just be left alone in a dusty attic, there has to be something behind it. Roxas mimics the trail of the cat, who now sits on a crate liking its paw, and begins to caress the painting's sides. His fingers find a small uprising, a flick of his finger and the painting suddenly slides up revealing a safe.

Roxas laughs. "Not bad, kitty cat not bad."

Picking the lock, Roxas opens it up to find a beautiful jeweled ruby necklace. As he carefully picks it up, observing the giant ruby at the center of it, the birds suddenly squawk and caw. Roxas whirls around to find the cat looking up at the roof. Roxas watches as he hears stomping footsteps go across. Dust and grit shook down around him, pieces of grime landing in his hair. Like a storm that had blown itself out, the thundering tapered off into hollow thudding, growing farther and farther away.

"Well, they do call the rooftops the Thieves Highway." He says, the cat meowing in return. "I wonder if that's who I think it is." He grins.

The cat hops out of the open window and Roxas follows. Together they climb up a drainpipe attached to a house and shimmy up it until reaching the other rooftop. This roof is like ones old ladies use to keep their pigeon coops, flat-topped and with a small bridge connecting to the other roof next to it.

A tall dark figure stands, his hood down, revealing his jet-black hair. The cat wanders over to him and purrs against his ankles.

Roxas can't help but smirk slightly.

"Vanitas." He says through a breathe laugh. The muscles in his face relaxes. "I should've guessed." He mumbles. "Care to make a little more noise next time." His voice rising.

"Well, it's been a while since I've seen you how else would you know it was me?" Vanitas says picking up the cay and snuggling it against his shoulders. He turns and leans against one of the coops, the cat trying to paw at the birds. His pale skin and golden-yellow eyes contrast against his hair, and even with his cloak around his body, Roxas can still see his tall, muscular build.

Vanitas is, according to Roxas' own calculations, the closest thing to a friend he's had. The boys were thrown together one day, back when they were both twelve, thirteen - Vanitas being older – and told to work together to retrieve a prized artifact of a rich aristocrat family. Vanitas being older thought his plan was more suited and normally outweighed Roxas', but with Roxas being stubborn, argued against him. They fought for nearly an hour before even getting started on the mission, pointing out each other's flaws in the plans and what the outcomes will be, but eventually with their fathers' at their backs, they reached a compromise.

Being Roxas and his father lived far, Roxas thought they'd write to stay in touch, but Roxas never found the time, and even when he thought he did, his father called for another training secession, and soon he eventually forgot to write anymore.

"Aw come on don't tell me after all these years you aren't happy to see me." Vanitas says as he strokes the cat.

"Well I'm not walking away so what do you think?" Roxas counters as he takes a couple steps forward.

Vanitas snickers. "I . . . think you haven't changed a bit." He sets the cat on the ground and it hops up on one of the coops. "Now, I have a job for you. A job I wanted to finish myself, but I thought I'd' share with you. Because I'm that nice of a person.

Roxas rolls his eyes.

"I need an extra set of hands to watch my back, take the pressure off."

"What are we after, Vanitas?" Roxas reminds.

"Well, it's more like a search and destroy kind of thing. There's this precious bust in the library that's worth a fortune. Too heavy to carry, and my client said that nearly all the citizens want it destroyed. Show the leader he's not untouchable by the crimes of the city."

"I can relate to that."

"So what do you say, babe? Want to go around?" Vanitas grins.

"Why do you call me that? It's something used for couples."

"Because I like to push your buttons." Vanitas as he playfully pretends to punch Roxas. Roxas counters and blocks with his forearms. "Come on, it'll be just like old times!"

Vanitas then turns and bolts into a run across the roof, leaping up and coming down, rolling up. Roxas follows and together the boys leap across roofs, dash through attics and flip up and vaulting around crates and vents and chimneys. Over the last hurdle, Roxas follows Vanitas sliding down a ramp made for cargo wheelbarrows. He lands square on his feet, Vanitas leaning against a streetlamp.

"Glad you could make it." he smiles.

"Did you pick that route because it was fast, or because you thought it'd be fun?"

"Can't it be both?"

Roxas shakes his head. "Come on, let's see if this job is what you make it to be."

Vanitas smiles and goes up ahead, hunching over low and then crouching to pick the lock of a gate. By now the sky is starting to turn pink and orange, and Roxas knows he's pressed for time. A part of him wishes he didn't take this sudden job, but seeing Vanitas, he realizes he could stay with him until he could find another route home should he miss Axel's ship.

"Are you going to use any of those shadows, Sir Sunlight?" Roxas teases.

"I was just scouting ahead. I know you always like to go first." Vanitas says as he pushes through the gates.

As the boys travel through the streets, keeping to the shadows, Vanitas takes it upon himself to try and catch up.

"So, what've you been up to?" he asks as he peers around a corner.

"Oh you know, killing thieving, helping my father rise up a rebellion." Roxas answers as he sneaks up behind a guard and chops at his neck, knocking him unconscious. Vanitas follows behind kicking out a man's feet and punching him in the face.

"Rebellion huh? Sounds fun." He says as the boys now hurry down the street.

"Not when I have Seifer constantly up my ass." Roxas sneers.

"What? That old man's still _alive_?"

"Not just alive. He has an heir now, and he may even have a bitterer attitude than his father." Roxas groans.

"Oh, how wonderful."

They run down the streets now, flipping over crates and even exchanging a few laughs as they reach the destination, Vanitas being the leader. Before them is a temple on the other side of the street. They hide beside a shop set up to take advantage of the temple's traffic, selling a multitude of sweet cakes and treats that get devoured after every service.

Looking at the temple, Roxas wonders how in the world they were going to get inside. He sees no windows, just rows and rows of columns. The columns themselves are too smooth and wide for them to scale. The giant front doors are closed. They are unguarded but most likely locked and barred from the inside. The roof is sharply sloped, pointed in the middle but nearly flat at the edges, the shape created by a clever interlocking of additional tiles. A statue creates by a clever interlocking of additional tiles. A statue looms on either side of the short white steps leading up into the temple. The left is of a noble-looking man in armor holding a set of scales. The right is of a young woman with her arms raised to the heavens as if singing in praise.

"This, is where I needed your help." Vanitas says.

"Never abandon as hopeless something you've never tried." Roxas whispers aloud. One of his earlier swordmasters had favored that saying. There is only one place left Roxas and Vanitas can check, and that is the roof. So to the roof they go.

Roxas takes the lead this time. At full speed, he curves to one side and leaps into the air. He kicks off the statue of the woman, vaulting himself atop the other statue. Not letting his momentum slow, he leaps again, his whole body reaching for the edge of the roof where it is flat.

Vanitas follows, same maneuvers and to the roof. His fingers brush it, slips, and then he is falling.

The front of the temple has large inset sections depicting mountains, fields of grain, and a rising sun. Below those carvings is a second edge jutting out just before the pillars begin. Vanitas bangs his elbow against the edge, twisting him midair before he can grab hold. A sharp intake of breath is the only cry he makes.

"Vanitas!" Roxas hisses through a breath.

"I'm fine." Vanitas replies.

He swings one foot up to the ledge, glad for once that Roxas had moved aside to allow room. They have an inch and a half to stand on. More than enough with their feet turned sideways. They stand upon is, their backs to the carvings, and look down at the street. No one is around. It seems whatever activities might be normal for the night, they took place nowhere near the temple.

They run over the siding of the temple and to the back where they stop and crouch, blocking part of their view is a large obelisk, one of four guarding the corners of the courtyard. A large fountain is at the very epicenter of it all.

A heavy wind rushed by, causing the leafy heads of enormous, ancient looking trees to swish back and forth. The sun poked through the clouds, lighting the very center of the court where a huge fountain stood. No water poured from the enormous green basin, and the elevated base was surrounded by graceful swans and solemn-faced shrubs.

At the very top of the fountain, a statue of a voluptuous nude woman looked down on them as they passed. She held a swath of fabric that clung to the lower half of her body and appeared to billow out behind her in a suspended arc. Curly-haired cherubs frolicked beneath the basin in a captured moment of abandon. Though the figures might have seemed playful in the daylight, something about the mix of shadows and stark light cast on their small faces through the trees made them appear more mischievous than free-spirited, more impish than gleeful.

The large swans that reveled with them, rearing back with wings outspread, looked somehow frantic.

Blocked by the wide bowl of the basin, the light could not reach the sultry figure of the nude woman who stood at the very top of the fountain, her veil billowing out behind her. She remained swathed in shadow, a silhouette that belonged to the night.

Guards patrol the entire area, weapons in hand and talking amongst one another. Roxas and Vanitas peer over the edge.

"That's a lot of guards." Roxas whispers.

"They're definitely not here for the summer festival dance. A lot of guards means a lot of steel. Thieves and swords do not get on well."

"_I've_ never had a problem with guards, but then again I'm not just a thief."

Vanitas eyes Roxas and together they sneak through the gardens, all the while hearing the guards' conversation for signs of anything interesting. But so far they're only talking about setting up a party for guests to arrive later in the night. They run across a long pergola surrounding the fountain and towards a set of stairs. They slip back down to their fingers, take a deep breath, and then try to fall forward instead of straight down. The higher up on the steps they land, the better. Luck is with Roxas as he lands on the very top step, which gives him plenty of room to roll. Vanitas lands after him, his knees aching, but it's better than a painful tumble down the sharp edged steps.

Roxas sneaks ahead of Vanitas and they listen carefully as a couple of guards mingle with one another.

"Every time I get it going, in fizzles out again." One guard says.

"You couldn't set a cloth aflame if it was doused in oil, son." says the other. "I'll how you it's done." Vanitas and Roxas watch as he kneels before a firepit. "If you pack it together too close, then the air won't feed the flames."

Roxas looks back at Vanitas and motions him forward. As Vanitas approaches, Roxas draws his dagger free without sound and sneaks up behind as the other guard sighs in aggravation. "I should know better, my family used to be charcoal burners."

As he finishes, Roxas hauls up and cover's the one guard's mouth and stabs him in the front of the chest, then slicing at his throat silently.

"Oh yeah? That's work you don't see much since the factories came." The other guard replies.

Roxas drags the body out into the shadows created by the firepit once it's lit. The guard dusts off his hands and turns, and Vanitas draws a sharp breath at the thought of Roxas getting caught, but he ducks behind a bench as he turns.

He notices the body, but doesn't seem alarmed. "Huh? Oh come on, what?"

Vanitas is suddenly there and he rams his knee in the back of the man's spine, hearing it crack and as he drops to his knees, Vanitas cushions the blow so it's not so loud for oncoming guards.

With a frown on his lips, he hurries over to Roxas' hiding spot, but not before he drifts his fingers to the guard Roxas killed. His fingers hovering just at the end of his nose, checking for breath.

There is none. Vanitas grow angry and slaps Roxas' arm. Roxas was looking out ahead, Unphased and uncaring, and this sudden motion makes his turn around confused.

"What the hell just happened?!" Vanitas sneers through grit teeth. "Why'd you kill this guard? He was barely older than _you_!"

A frown forms between Roxas' eyebrows as they narrow. "He was a guard, Vanitas! Wrong place, wrong time." He coldly says.

"God you haven't changed at all, have you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Vanitas sighs in aggravation as he checks their surroundings. "It means, I don't kill without thought or good reason and I don't get fucking _paid_ for it!"

"So basically it's okay when you do it but not me?!" Roxas seethes. "I see, I get it. But you know what, my guard isn't going to wake up later and follow our trail to cause trouble."

"Oh and like leaving your dead body around is any better?"

Roxas' eyes narrow. "By the time any guard discovers _my_ bodies, I'm usually long gone. I'm only here for a short while, so I don't have time for your lectures or _tantrums_!"

Before Vanitas can snark a reply, Roxas swoops over to the door that leads to the first floor of the mansion. He hears Vanitas come up behind him and can't fight the shiver that crawls up his spine like a mass of spiders.

"If you're so eager to leave, maybe I should go first." He says, and his tone hurts Roxas.

"It's not like that, Vanitas." Roxas states as he picks the lock.

"Then what is the story?"

"It's complicated."

Vanitas scoffs. "It always is."

"No, it really is. It's a long story and frankly I don't think I have time to talk about it."

"Of course."

Roxas sighs as he pushes open the gates and Vanitas suddenly bumps past him purposely. Roxas doesn't snarl of cruse, he only sighs again and follows. Shutting the door behind him, Roxas has to rush after Vanitas as he's already halfway down the hall. He hears no footsteps, no shuffling of a bored guard or soft breathing of a slumbering man. Taking a deep breath, Roxas turns around a corner keeping up with Vanitas, which he knows is picking up the pace purposely going faster to annoy Roxas.

The carpet is soft and thick. He couldn't have asked for better. Small torches are lit every twenty feet, hanging from iron loops embedded in the walls. Bits of purple flicker in their centers. They release no smoke.

Roxas follows Vanitas, who remains quiet. The hallway ends at a sharp turn. Roxas doesn't have the slightest clue where he is going, all the more reason to stick close to Vanitas. Looming before them is a great open chamber of worship. A statue of a beautiful woman with a veil draped over her head. The purple fires burn at her feet, the only light visible. Shadows dance across the pews. Two men knelt in prayer before their alter. A third slowly circles the room, softly singing something more akin to a funeral dirge than a worship hymn. His hands are lifted to the ceiling and his eyes half closed.

Vanitas and Roxas pause, Roxas moving up in front of Vanitas. The two praying they might sneak past, but the circling priest is another matter. Roxas leans back into the hallway, knowing his time to get to the library is fleeting.

"Keep circling." Roxas whispers. When the priest is on the opposite side of the room, Roxas and Vanitas run as fast as they can, their upper bodies crouch down. He motion makes their legs ache and their backs twinge, but while Vanitas grunts, Roxas recites a mental litany against pain taught him by one of his tutors. When they are halfway to the door leading to the library, one of the praying men leans back and shouts in a twisted cry of pain and triumph.

Roxas' instinct is to freeze but he doesn't obey it. That is something else he's long ago been trained to ignore. He rolls before the pillar, dragging Vanitas with him, then spins about to look. One priest stands before the statue, a knife in hand. Blood spills from his other arm, his severed hand lying on the smooth obsidian altar. Vanitas tries not to think on the horror of seeing a man mutilate himself in the name of his god.

The other praying priest stands and wraps his arms around the bleeding man. The third continues his circling and singing as if nothing unusual is happening.

"Don't fight the pain." The unwounded priest says. "In darkness we bleed to prevent the darkness spreading to others. We must give all to defy the chaos of this world. Your pain is nothing compared to the suffering of thousands."

Vanitas tugs Roxas towards away from the sight. His footsteps went mute as they sank into plush gold and black carpeting. The walls were lined with shelves decorated with colorful glass knickknacks and boats. Tall floor candelabrums with fancy flat bowls accented the space. Scanning the walls, he could find no windows.

Old-fashioned threadbare tapestries depicting medieval knights, nobles, and ladies hung in their place over the decorative walls.

A plush Persian carpet runner ran the length of the floor beneath his feet, while tall curio cabinets full of strange artifacts like gold scarabs, foreign ankhs, and bleached animal skulls lined the walls on either side of him. Long hallway tables holding stacks of ancient books sat outside several set of closed double doors along with heavy high-backed chairs, the arms of which bore the carved images of crouching sphinxes.

Golden candelabra shaped like women in flowing gowns adorned the walls, the low and steady light they offered between their outstretched hands providing minimal relief from the darkness that saturated everything.

He rushed, keeping his aim on one of the many gigantic ebony pairs of double doors.

With it being on the ground level, the library expands all across the walls. The forty-foot high ceiling makes you feel like you've shrunk. The crystal stain glass dome allows an expanse of natural light to brighten the room. An expanse of plush couches and loveseats and armchairs are scattered across the floor and on the upper level. They're around fireplaces and near windows so one can enjoy their novel in the upmost comfort. The shelves on the floor level are a least twenty feet tall, and to get to the second floor you have to take a metal spiral staircase. Priests here visit on a rainy weekend, but today it's fairly empty.

Apart from tables being scattered about, Roxas could easily spot the bust Vanitas mentioned. The thing was about the size of the man it was inspired off of. It was that of a gaunt, deep-browed man with unruly hair and a small black-comb mustache. His eyes look sad, desperate and wild all at the same time. Sunken and pooled by enormous dark circles, they seem to ache with sorrow.

"This, is a great man whose reputation we need to tarnish? Might as well be the slave of the Abyss." Roxas says as Vanitas closes the doors behind them.

"If I was strict on religion I'd order you to hold your tongue. Thankfully I'm not."

"There are no limits for the faithless." Roxas remarks. "So, how do you plan to ruin this?"

"Well, breaking it would be too, simple." Vanitas sighs. "We need to really, smatter his image. Show the townspeople we don't care who you are, you abed to our rules."

"Sounds like something we should've left for someone, mentally more creative." Roxas carefully words.

"No mere lunatic could s easily sneak into the temple. But any ideas?"

"You're asking the wrong person." Roxas says as he wanders around. "I'll leave that to you."

Vanitas shrugs and draws a dagger and a burlap sack. The minute he pulls it out, Roxas catches the scent of something foul. Knowing what's in the bag, Roxas leaves him and explores the cast expanse of shelves. His heart thrums at the sight of all the books holding so many secrets; about training, fighting skill, the history of the town and previous rulers.

Roxas follow the labels until he reach the History section on the second floor. So far nothing seemed worth looking at. As he weaves between the shelves, out of the corner of his eye, he sees a short hallway, with an old door at the end with a large door pull hand forged.

It seemed separated from the rest of the library, like a forgotten section that was undergoing demolition soon. Something about it seemed, different. With curiosity eating at his innards, Roxas follows down the hallway and pull open the door and discovered a long stairwell that went down into endless darkness. It took him down below to what he assumed would be the basement.

Instead, it leads him to another abandoned library, or whatever could be larger than that, since the first thing he saw is books. Inside, the musty air held an antique thickness, and the scent of dust and aging books combined to make breathing a chore. The front room stretched before me long and narrow, lined with rows of tall, sturdy bookshelves that reached almost the ceiling. Overhead, the tired light of torches burned a dull gold, adding little relief to the accumulated shadows. Carefully, he steps around a mound of ancient looking tomes gathered near the door. Roxas moves between two shelves and thought about calling out but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to break the dead silence. His gaze passes up and over the marked spines of countless books; every item categorized by its own number and date, and it makes him feel almost as though he is walking through catacombs. When he reaches the end, Roxas peers around the shelf to see a counter. Well, really, he sees a lot of books piled on top of something that at one time must have been a counter.

The small space has been completely dominated with spider webs over the years, had one wall with maps and pictures and even mysterious markings along its one side. Judging from the number of bottles scattered across the floor, whosever study this was, he was a drinker. Which means his information is less than anything useful. Still, Roxas traces his fingers over ritualistic markings along the wall, and pause when he sees one written in red.

"_No one leaves"_

His skin crawls with gooseskin as he looks closer and see the imprint of a fingerprint. Did he write this with ink, or his blood?

Ghosting his fingers along the artificial wood shelving, he comes to an old logbook squished at the very end. Its old parchment and leather binding showed it was probably from the earlier century. Pulling it off the shelf, Roxas blows on the cover, stirring up a cloud of dust.

The thing was heavy and thick. The cover has long been worn away and all that's left are faint gold etchings. Its yellow pages are crisp and wrinkled, popping and cracking as he breezes through them with his thumb. They went easily, as though the pages spent more time being pinned apart than clumped together. Its spine made a soft creaking noise as he pulls it open. Sheets of folded paper fall out to the floor, puddle at his feet. Gathering them up, Roxas finds the nearest armchair and table and begins reading through it.

It mainly talks about the original builders of the temple**, **along with a few handwritten sections, as if from a personal diary. Purple writing covered every inch of buttery parchment. It was the most beautiful handwriting Roxas has ever seen. Each loop and every curl connected cleanly to make the writing itself appear as perfect and uniform as a printed font. It baffles Roxas how someone could sit and take the time to form letter so meticulously.The folded sheets of paper talk about secret passages all throughout the estate for emergencies in time of war. Others held small notes that he's sure were meant to be put in later.

He hears Vanitas call for him, and Roxas would have commented on how stupid the move was, but he sounded close. Soon enough his head pops through the doorway and he's down the steps, his cape trailing behind him.

"Hey, all done. But we should leave before the smell catches on." He notions with a thumb pointing over his shoulder.

"Okay, just give me a minute." Roxas says.

"Man, you always seem to find the strangest places." He says as he looks around.

Vanitas follows Roxas as he heads further into the complex, through a maze of old armor, racks of swords crates of cloth and jars upon jars of food. He stops and turns towards a stack of paintings propped against each other. Each of them is rectangular, the length of a man lying on his side.

Roxas grabs one of the paintings, Vanitas grabs the corner to help. Together they hold the picture and stare. It shows seven men and women, their bodies wrapped in black cloth. They hold daggers, staves, and swords in hands hidden by waves of shadow that roll of their bodies like smoke from fire. At their feet lie over twenty dead paladins.

"Well painted, if a bit overdramatic." Roxas says.

"They are the Faceless." Vanitas says, his eyes going distant.

"Who?"

Vanitas is about to answer, when a cry comes from the outer library.

"Later, we need to go."

He takes Roxas' wrist and Roxas lets the painting clank back against the others as they rush up the stairs and out to the main library. The door creaked and they slip between the small opening and quietly shut it behind them. Clapping his hands, Roxas relieves them of any dust and cobweb residue.

The boys peak over the edge and spot one of the priests kneeling in front of what remains of the bust.

Roxas looks and finds the thing chopped in pieces, smeared with brown waste – the smell alone making Roxas wrinkle his nose in disgust. Then the head was decapitated and stuck to torn open inside out, the torso peeled and torn like fabric. The priest wails in agony and Roxas peers to Vanitas.

"You sure like to add your own flare on things don't you." Roxas says.

Vanitas shrugs. "What can I say? I like originality."

"Well let's see you 'originality' get us out of this." Roxas challenges.


	11. Chapter 10

After sneaking out of the library, Roxas and Vanitas shut the doors and barred it shut with a podium and stay close to the walls.

They crawl along the sides of the pews. Time is running out. The hallway to the center aisle is clearly looking like an exit, but if they don't reach it before the still circling priest comes up behind them, they'd be spotted. Both keep their hoods over their heads and Roxas pulls up his mask.

"Gods be praised!" shouts the mutilated priest. Vanitas feels his stomach tighten at another cry of pain. He doesn't dare look, but it sounds like one of them is sobbing. The dire hymn continues in its low, maniacal consistency.

At last they reach the final row. They lower themselves to the ground, looking for the feet of the circling priest. Once he is on the opposite side yet again, Roxas and Vanitas run towards the center.

Roxas immediately tugs Vanitas away when he sees what awaits them down the long entryway hall: two priests leaning against the door, their heads bowed and their arms crossed. He can't see their eyes in the split second before he and Vanitas roll to the pews on the other side. Their hoods are pulled low. They might be asleep . . . or they might have spotted their rolls.

No shouts of warning come from the door. They have gone unnoticed.

"Praise be." Vanitas whispers under his breath. "Nice reflexes."

Roxas nods as he keeps his eyes on the priests. There is no way they can sneak past the two of them, nor can Vanitas help subdue them with his bare hands.

"Vanitas, stay here." Roxas orders.

"What?"

"Get here." Roxas says. "No argument."

"What about you?"

"I'll handle the priests." Roxas says as he places a hand on the hilt of his daggers. "You'll know when to come in."

"Okay. Be safe."

"Always."

Roxas makes his way back towards the front. The bleeding priest has stopped crying, instead sucking loud, labored breathes in through clenched teeth. The other has begun reciting a series of scriptures that cools Vanitas' blood.

"Only in death is life reborn. Only in blood is sin denied. Only in darkness is the world saved. Only in absolute emptiness is there order."

"Praise be." The other priest stammers.

The circling priest switches hymns, his voice deepening and the words slowing. Vanitas can't understand the lyrics, but the song gives him the shivers. The two priests up from aren't helping either. Judging by the song, the man is near the door. Time is short.

Roxas looks around the pew to the statue. The first priest has placed the dagger upon the altar, its hilt and blade covered in blood. Beside it is a severed hand. The other is clutching him, repeating scriptures while blood seeped into the bandages wrapped around the stump.

"Forgive me my theft." The wounded priest murmurs, his skin pale and his eyes roll back in his head. His words mingled with the scriptures, blending in perfect harmony. "Forgive me my theft, Lord. Wounded I enter, but enter I will."

"Only in blood is sin denied."

"Forgive me my theft, Lord. I deny myself the chaos."

"Only in absolute emptiness is there order." The two repeat as one.

Roxas chooses this moment to strike. He kicks the unwounded priest behind the knee, the man's head smacking the altar on the way down. Planting his feet firm, Roxas rams his body against the other, elbowing the bloody stump. The priest cries out, staggering backwards on weak legs.

Giving neither time to respond, Roxas pulls out his daggers, spins, and slashes open the first priests throat. As his body spasms, Roxas turns to the other and lunges. The dagger pierces the man's chest.

"Only in blood," the priest whispers with his dying breath.

A bolt of shadows strikes Roxas' side. He cries out, stunned by the immense pain. It feels like every nerve in the area is firing off sensations of pain. Rolling to avoid the next, Roxas clutches his dagger tightly in his hands. The hilt is slick with blood, and he might lose it if he isn't careful."

"Killed amid worship!" the third priest shouts, his voice booming in the great room. "You will suffer for such blasphemy!"

Two more bolts of shadow fly from the priest's hands, splintering wood and cracking stone where they strike. Roxas runs between the pews, using their wood for cover. The priest is halfway down the center aisle. Close enough. Roxas steps onto a pew and leaps with all his strength. His body stretches, the dagger lashing out. The priest, stunned by the sudden assault, tries to ward himself. The spell dies on his lips as the dagger slashes his face.

Then their bodies collide. Roxas screams as his shoulder rams the priest's chest, wrenching his whole body violently. With it still not being fully healed, the pain is excruciating. Roxas spins and lands on a pew, his feet pressing onto the seat. The priest fares better, collapsing into a sitting position on the pew.

"Suffer!" the priest shouts. The word carries power with it. Roxas rolls to the floor, his mind white with pain. "You cannot resist my power!" the priest says, reaching to take away the dagger. "How such a simple boy can kill two of his . . ."

Roxas grabs the man by the throat, puts a leg underneath him and pushes, ramming himself into the priest's stomach before the man can close his fingers about the hilt. The man's hand claws about him, flailing. Roxas stabs him once, twice, then twists the blade upon yanking it out. Blood shoots across the front of his tunic.

"Your god means nothing to me." Roxas says, feeling joy at denying the man's dark god as he dies.

Roxas turns to where he left Vanitas. He stays crouched, eyes wide in shock. Roxas runs to the altar and grabs the bloody knife next to the severed hand. He doesn't shout, but throws it to Vanitas. He catches is in his cloak, cleaning the handle of the knife.

The two other priests have come running down the long entryway and into the room beyond. Unlike the other three, they are not caught unaware. Dark magic crackles around their fingertips as they summon the might of their god. With the sounds of battle, the rest of the priesthood will soon awaken and join them. They has one chance to escape, and that involves a head-on approach against two furious priests.

Roxas smiles and ducks below a pew. Vanitas, dagger clutched tight in his right hand, he makes his charge.

Bolts of shadows strike the pews, exploding their wood into splinters. They hit to either side of him, for Vanitas leaps over the first row, using the seat to catapult himself into the air. He flies heels-first, curling gracefully to land atop the very last row. More bolts chase him but he twirls into another jump, the dagger flashing with each spin as it catches the light of the altar's fire.

When he hands, Vanitas does not engage but instead runs between them, his dagger lashing outward. The one on the right screams as the tendons underneath his arm tears, blood rushing down his side. Vanitas goes to cut the other, but the priest laps his hands together. A wave of power rolls outward, knocking the boy aside as if he is an insect before a storm. Roxas springs up from his hiding spot and leaps up, catching Vanitas and both boys tumble. Vanitas uncurls himself from Roxas' arms as the priest approaches.

"Get back," the priest on the left tells his wounded friend, who reluctantly obeys. Roxas stands and spins his dagger between his fingers.

Roxas takes two steps towards the door as if to flee, then drops flat on the ground. A blast of red lightning shoots above his head, breaking the thick bar across the doors. Roxas rolls to his knees and kicks. Instead of directly charging the priest he lunges to the side, ramming his shoulder against the wall. Another bolt of shadow strikes the ground, missing by inches.

Both priests begin their prayers for another spell, but Roxas is too close. Their hands move as if in a dream, their bodies surrounded by molasses. Roxas kicks off the wall, spins once, and slashes his dagger into the nearest priest's chest. Without slowing he spins about the body, stabbing again, and then jumps towards the other. His foot crushes windpipe; his dagger pierces lung.

The priest falls. Vanitas comes up next to Roxas and tosses the sacrificial dagger.

"He can keep it." Vanitas tells the bodies.

With the bar broken, they push open the doors with ease. They avoid the obsidian steps, not liking the way they glow in the waning moonlight. The soft grass feels wonderful on their feet, as they sudden rush of fresh air. Only the fence blocks their way. Roxas laughs. After five priests, a fence is child's play. With Vanitas following, Roxas swings his weight from one side to side as he shimmies up the bars, then somersaults over the sharpened tops. The landing jars Roxas' legs, adding more pain to his already impressive list, but they are out.

They look back to the temple, watching as it slowly turns into an earthly mansion, its columns fading into shadows and lies.

Roxas gazes up at the sky. A full moon dominates the velvet sky with starts poking holes in its darkness. His heart sinks and he sighs.

"What's wrong?" Vanitas asks as he starts to casually walk away, ushering Roxas to join him. Roxas follows, bending his arm to ease the pain in his elbow.

"Ah, I was supposed to be at the docks by twilight. We were in there longer than I anticipated."

"Well, at least you have a story to tell."

"Not if I don't get back home to tell it." Roxas says.

Vanitas softly chuckles and takes Roxas wrist and with their missions complete, leads him around the streets. Roxas is curious as to what Captain Axel is thinking right now. Is the ship already sailing? A part of him thinks that Axel wasn't true to his word that they would leave without him. If they did, they lose the boon Roxas promised them if they ensure the safe return of him to his father.

Roxas is far too valuable to them moneywise. Still, a part of him wants to check out the docks to see if it's true. If so, at least it won't be all bad. Now that he's reunited with Vanitas, and with their mission a success, maybe he will let Roxas stay at his home, wherever that may be.

The boys wander down the streets, looking like nothing more than a couple of young men wandering the streets at night. With most shops closed and stands vacant of people, the boys stroll along the cobblestone. Roxas doesn't notice Vanitas' hand still holding his wrist as they walk, the pain in his shoulder throbbing annoyingly.

"You want to visit the docks? Just to check?" Vanitas asks.

"Yes." Roxas says. "Do you know the path from here?"

"Destiny Isles isn't as big as you think, so once you know the main roads, it's simple to navigate. So, yes." Vanitas smirks.

Roxas rolls his eyes and lets Vanitas take the lead. Soon they reach the marketplace, seemingly unfamiliar without so many people bustling about. Now it's only the drunkards of the night along with the provocative women prowling the streets for their victim men to waste their hard-earned pay.

They spot one in a provocative uniform, and she wears a lace mask and deep red lipstick. She smiles giggles and waves with a twiddle of her fingers. "Hi, Vanitas. Are you planning to visit me tonight? Your friend can come to." She coos.

Vanitas smiles and domineeringly laughs in an attempt to cover up Roxas' foul snarl. "Not tonight, I'm hosting my own guest. But keep the bed warm for me." He winks.

They pass her and Roxas gives a small sound of disgust. "Degrading."

"Not a fan of funhouses, huh?" Vanitas teases.

"Not now, not ever."

"You're a strange one, Roxas."

"I see it as a form of control. It's clear you need some form of lust to keep you satisfied just like every other drunk bastard."

"Are you saying I'm weak?"

"When in the control of your desires, yes. You're weak and not in control."

"Well that's why I'm better." Vanitas retorts.

They soon reach the Square and the only shop open is the tavern. Its windows give off a warm buttery glow and the sounds of the men and women singing and clanking tankards together can be heard from their position on the opposite side of the street. As they pass, the door suddenly barges open, and out stumbles Xigbar and Luxord. At first they both seem hammered, Luxord shouting Roxas' name from across the street. Apparently even with blurred vision, he can still spot Roxas.

"I blame your hair." Vanitas whispers as he steps back into the shadows.

Roxas scoffs and jogs across the street to the two men. Relief fills his stomach and perhaps eve joy shoots through him at the sight of the two other men still present in the town.

"Roxas!" Luxord screams between giggles. "You're still here! I thought you had ditched us!"

"You're still here." Roxas states to Xigbar since it appears he's the competent one in the situation.

"Yeah, and monkey's fling their own poop." Xigbar growls. "Now, if we're done stating the obvious, I need to tell you. Axel made us stay since a good few of the men have taken that long-ass trail down towards the tipsy village."

"It's clear to see. Are the men staying at the tavern or an inn?" Roxas asks.

Xigbar shrugs Luxord up more on his shoulder, grunting in aggravation. Roxas can't help but wonder thinking he's witnessing the two kinds of drunk men can become. Luxord being the one who laughs and giggles, and Xigbar, who's probably had a few strong shots, being the grouchy persons who will pick a fight over the smallest thing.

"Well, that depends. A few of the men chose to stay in the whore house, while others, as I'm sure you can guess whom are staying an inn. I'm on my way there now." Xigbar explains. "You coming?"

"Later." Roxas says. "I'm going to scour the night, maybe pick up a few clients for my father."

Xigbar chuckles. "I can see why Captain Axel found you useful, but you need to learn to relax, boy." With that, he turns and begins to haul Luxord down the sidewalk. For a moment, Roxas wants to help, but rules it out at the thought of Luxord suddenly losing his liquor.

Roxas waits until they're halfway away from the tavern before he turns and goes back to the spot where Vanitas disappeared into the alleyway.

"We're fine." Roxas whispers into the darkness.

Vanitas emerges and grins. "Well, as luck would have it, I do have another job for us, if you're interested."

"How about I tend to my wounds before you get me killed." Roxas says. Vanitas steps out, his cloak seemingly to trail behind him like the train of a bridal dress.

"Now why would I get you killed?" Vanitas grins. One corner of Roxas' mouth twitches and Vanitas grabs his shoulder, shaking him playfully. "Come on, I'll take you to my hideout."

"I'm waiting on bated breath." Roxas amuses.

Vanitas taps his shoulder and Roxas follows him down the street. The boys surprisingly seem to talk the whole time. Vanitas talked to Roxas about how he had moved out from the orphanage.

Vanitas' parents left him there since he was little. Vanitas once told Roxas that he thought he was an 'accident.' Vanitas' mother was a prostitute who had become with child of one of her clients; a Duke on the high court of the king of Destiny Isles. When she had gotten word, he wanted no part of raising Vanitas, let alone owning up to being the father. Vanitas says that his mother probably had good intentions, but she just didn't want him around the tavern, let alone have him witness what she had to do. She had wanted him to be in better conditions, have a mother of proud reputation; and since she couldn't over him anything, she turned him over to the orphanage.

Growing up there wasn't the best as one can imagine. Strict rules and curfews, cruel retribution from the caretakers should the children disobey the rules.

"_You will do as I say you filthy children or you'll feel the sting of my whip_!"

Roxas looks to Vanitas and can see, poking out of the corner of his collar, a small scar sticking out and drifting down to what Roxas assumed was his chest. No doubt Roxas can see the outline of a buckle.

"_Come here boy_!"

Roxas shivers at the thought of another man laying hands on him. His father rarely ever laid hands on him, whether to give punishment of praise, their contact is rare; Roxas can only recall his father's kiss on his forehead back home at the Oblivion mansion.

At the age of eighteen, Vanitas moved out of the orphanage, given the right of a man, and set out to obtain a new home. With the harshness of the streets and the limited charity given by others, Vanitas was soon adopted into a thief's guild and trained by Guildmaster's right hand woman. Within that year, Vanitas leveled up the ranks quickly and soon became the third in command.

Now, at the age of nineteen, Vanitas while he lives alone, is still connected to the guild, called upon when they need him. He never did go back to visit his mother. He doesn't even know what happened to her, and he says he doesn't care. Roxas didn't ask him anything further about it.

"I'm eager to see where you live now." Roxas says as they boys turn left at an intersection.

"Hopefully its accommodations live up to your likeness."

"I can handle anything. As my father trained me." Roxas says.

"Where is it you live now?"

"I live with my father in a mansion." Roxas says. He doesn't care about what he reveals to Vanitas; he knows where his loyalties lie and he trusts him wholeheartedly. "We bought it from a noble who left town. He pays for the upkeep on it, but he never stays there anymore."

"Hmm, sounds like the perfect place for a man of power such as your father." Vanitas says.

They slip in between a couple buildings and climb up a strategically placed stack of crates up to the ledges above. Then Vanitas climbs up further to an outside loft area and over a few ledges and a railing for a balcony window lies a tall clock tower looming tall over the city. Roxas looks at the tower in awe.

"Yeah, it's not much but it's got a great view." Vanitas says. He takes Roxas' wrist and guides him over to the entrance to the clocktower.

Walking in, the air smells old and crisp, like a mixture of dusty old books and the smell of autumn leaves on a dry day in autumn. Walking through the threshold, Roxas peers up and finds a long rectangular staircase lead up to the clock part of the tower.

Roxas follows Vanitas up the steps, ignoring the burning in his thighs and holding in a groan. When they get to the top, the room opens up wide, revealing the gears and shifts and weights and bells that seemed to work well when in operation, but now their glory is deemed lower as they are now covered in dust.

"This tower has been abandoned since they built a new one on the other, busier side of town. They just keep this one standing because it counts a memorial when the town first settled here." Vanitas informs.

From the stairs, turning left reveals a small bed tucked away under another set of stairs leading higher up to the windows located in the back of the tower. Next to the bed is a small end table and shelves trailing along the wall, stacked surprisingly with a bunch of books and tomes and classical novels. Then following the wall, it's a vanity with chips in the wood and a mirror with a crack in the corner, a pitcher and soap dish, and then a dresser with an extra set of knives laying on top.

Several trios of candles are scattered about the space to add to the moonlight peering through the glass of the clock face and the windows. Roxas follows Vanitas to the left and to another section of the tower where long mauve tables, dust covered as well with velvet cases holding precious unique valuables Vanitas has collected over the years; including paintings, bracelets, rings and city plaques. The gathering of items makes Roxas feel like he's almost in a hidden underwater grotto filled with hidden collectables that can only be seen by those you trust most.

"Impressive collection." Roxas says.

"Thank you." Vanitas smiles. "Quite proud of it."

Vanitas continues up the set of steps that hover over his bed and top the upper level where Roxas can only assume is like his workspace. Roxas passes one chest and lifts the lid to find it stuffed with supplies. An extra bow, two extra belts of knives, a short sword and rapier sword, food, some glass throwables – like bottles and glass cups, and flashbombs. But the one thing that surprises Roxas the most is collection of how many arrows Vanitas has; the majority most he likely forged himself. His arrows seem to have some kind of special container of mechanism that releases smoke or steam or water.

Roxas can see water arrows, fire arrows, explosive arrows, broadhead arrows, rope arrows, and choke arrows. The choke arrows releases a noxious gas that stuns enemies in a cloud of fumes. These arrows can also knock out caged birds and dogs that would otherwise give the player's position away if detected. Probably among the most useful arrows, these water arrows allow the extinguish of open flames such as torches resulting in darkness. The release of water from the barrel upon impact extinguishes small or medium-sized sources of flame such as torches, fireplaces or braziers. Rope arrows may be shot above into specific wooden overhanging arches to affix a rope that allow him to climb up.

"How did you make these?" Roxas asks as Vanitas comes back down with a slice of beef jerky. He holds up a fire arrow.

"Powder in the barrel reacts to a triggered spark upon impact creating a small burst of flame that can ignite some flammable materials." Vanitas explains.

"Wow." Roxas gives a soft smile. "I like the broadhead and sawtooth ones."

"The brutal, heavier sawtooth construction offers increased damage and penetration due to serrated blades, a strengthened tip and a better weighted shaft." Vanitas swallows his jerky and drinks a small glass of water. "The broadhead, simple but effective, the double-bladed head deals damage over a good distance to offer a wide range of use from deadly to dexterous."

Roxas picks up an explosive arrow, twirling it between his fingers. "I like what you did here. The more volatile barrel canister and heavier trigger delivers a small but intense explosion that ignites flammable materials and deals extensive damage to the target area.

"Your dad taught you well." Vanitas says.

"Yeah." Roxas says, still gazing at the arrows. Vanitas looks to him, leaning his head to one side. "You know, you should come and live in our Guild." Roxas suggests.

Vanitas raises his eyebrows.

"We have better living conditions, better food, and warm fires. Better women in our territory. And we can see each other. Go on missions together." Roxas persuades.

Vanitas chuckles. "Thanks, but I like it here. I have my own reputation and livelihood here."

"At least think about it?"

He laughs and nods. "Oh, before I forget, I wanted to give you something." He says as he pushes off the wooden railing and heads back up the steps.

"What? What is it?" Roxas follows him up the steps to the work space.

There is a window on the left end, then its bookshelves, another window and a workbench with small candles placed around the tables and a scattering of newspapers articles on the floor. Roxas spots a ladder next to the window on the left, following to where it leads, and it disappears up to the rafters of the clock and hands of the tower. Designed in a gambrel style, the rafter has little ledges and corners that Roxas can easily picture himself sitting on and looking out through the glass.

"Still a bit of a slob." Roxas teases.

"Not like I expected you to come over."

"I'm not complaining, I'm just stating a fact."

He hears Vanitas chuckle softly. "Come here." He calls. Roxas jogs over to the bookshelf.

He hops up onto one of the ledges of the window as Vanitas' fingers trail over the books with a featherlike touch. He pulls out a large green book with gold foil glinting on the cover and spine, revealing floral motifs and elegant lettering. The book's yellowing block of pages looked almost too thick for its own binding.

"About two hundred years ago the priests of a light god succeeded in a massive conversion of the brethren of a dark god. It was then that their presence in the city weakened, and their kind was banished from the city."

He hands Roxas the book, and Roxas folds his legs, placing the book in his lap. Vanitas leans his hip against the ledge, looking down with Roxas; sparing the blonde a thoughtful gaze. Opening the behemoth volume, Roxas begins flipping through whole sections at a time, as though searching for a name in an obituary.

"They fought bitterly, as you can imagine, and with heavy hearts. A score of priests repented, sneaking away from their god of light's temple and throwing themselves at the dark temple's doors in Traverse Town." Vanitas elucidates. He points to a small picture at the bottom of one page, depicting two men in white robes knelt in prayer before a hooded man in a purple black robe. Roxas tries to ignore how close Vanitas leans, his hair nearly brushing Roxas' cheek. "They tested their faith. Those that lived were admitted into the priesthood, but not entirely. The high priest at the time was a brilliant man named Ansem the Wise."

"I know of him," Roxas says. The chunks of pages slapped against one another until finally he stops on a page that depicted a handwritten format. Fine threads of ink curled upward and downward and chased one another around, spreading their way across the page like veins in fused with black poison. They connected and layered with one another, intertwining and weaving in and out to depict the curve of a delicate wrist, or to convey the motion of wind through the swells of gossamer veils. "Forfeited his fortune to devote his life to a dark god? Xehanort was particularly fond of his sayings, and used them often in his sermons."

"How is that gold goat? Or I assume he's old by now." Vanitas asks.

"Hard as nails and brutal as a mailed fist." Roxas says with a small smile. "So, is this about the Faceless group you told me about?"

Vanitas nods. As Roxas reads on, he soaks up each new bit of information and begins to piece them together. He sees mostly portraits of former high priests, though among them are scenes of warfare, battles between angles of dark and light, and even serene depictions of nature. Like jolts of electric current, Roxas' thoughts race ahead of him to make one connection after another until his mind becomes a live switchboard of linking sequences.

"Ansem the Wise knew that to welcome the traitors back without penalty could weaken them. He also knew that their devotion could be of great use, but only if the traitor-priests were forever reminded of their failure. So he wrapped them in cloth and ordered them to never reveal their skin until the end of their days. They slept separate from the rest, dined away from the rest, and eventually attended their own sermons."

"This is fascinating. And I assume you have a point."

Vanitas laughs, but his voice lacks any mirth. "My point is that they are not just legends." Roxas look up to him, nearly flinching at how close he is. Roxas' eyes are wide in curiosity. "They are an _active_ organization of highly trained assassins who carry out assassination contracts. For those who wish to utilize their deadly services, they simply visit their headquarters located in a not so friendly part of town; though they do not actively recruit Faceless. They are a punishment, not an honor. Rumor says they only have three now, women who let their sex control their actions. Their faith in their dark lord, however, remains strong. So they priests put them separate from them, let them live and operate outside the temple. For years they remained obedient, performing tasks to further the cause of their god. And now . . ."

"They've font something . . ." Roxas says, figuring where the story is going. He looks at the seven in the picture on the last few pages, their bodies bathed in blood and darkness. "They've gone feral, haven't they?"

"Putting the entire temple in danger. Hence why we were sent to break the bust."

"Why didn't they call the Faceless?"

"They want to try and unite the other thieves of the city with the Faceless, hoping to have them join. Now rumor has it that one recently went to the temple, seeking to increase their numbers, as if it is a privilege to be a Faceless."

"You thinking that they can be hefty allies with my father's?" Roxas asks.

Vanitas shrugs. "I don't know. They pride themselves in being loners, as do you." Vanitas pushes off the ledge and strolls over to the workbenches. "It's nothing promising, but it's worth the shot. You never know."

"Exciting. Thank you." Roxas says as she continues to flip through the last few pages of the book. Vanitas gazes at him, the moonlight reflecting off his pale blonde hair. He brushes his bangs out of his face and his eyes flick left and right across the pages.

Vanitas fists his hand and furrows his brows. "How come you never wrote to me?"

Roxas grows still.

He couldn't tell if Vanitas is teasing, so the words burrow deeply beneath his skin. He suddenly feels like a kite sinking back towards earth after flying high on a gust of wind. He frowns and get off from the ledge of the window.

"What?" is all he manages to say.

"All those years I sent you letters, and you never replied. All I remember is that one visit we had and then, I never hear from you again. You don't come see me? You don't write?"

Roxas' demeanor changes as he hears the anger and aggravation and hurt in Vanitas' voice. He begins to take carefully steps - similar to if he was walking on egg shells, towards Vanitas.

"What are you talking about?"

Vanitas coldly laughs. "I mean, I thought that you just wanted nothing to do with me anymore."

"Vanitas, I was busy training with my father and his mentors! I'm going to be the heir to his empire! I didn't have the time to visit you!" Roxas argues.

Vanitas watches Roxas for a long moment before his shoulders hunch. He stares forward, out into the open space of the clocktower. "Well you're here now, and I think the least you now owe me is an explanation. So where the _hell_ have you been?!" he yells.

Roxas is silent, studying Vanitas as he tries to figure out what had gone wrong. How is that they went from old friends to sudden, bitter arguing . . . spouses, almost. Like then the wife accuses the husband for coming home late from the pub, accusing him of cheating.

"I've been home." Roxas finally answers in a stern voice."

Vanitas looks to him, pain and a stone cold look of some undecipherable emotion in his eyes. His lips pressed into a tight line. "You were home." Vanitas repeats. He coldly chuckles again and runs his fingers through his hair. "Pssss . . . fine. Forget it."

He suddenly turns and heads down the steps.

"Vanitas." Roxas calls. His own tone annoyed yet calling to him to not leave, he follows Vanitas down the steps.

"Far be it for me to ask about where my _only_ friend has been for the last _five_ _fucking_ years!" Vanitas shouts.

"If you're looking for an apology, you're not getting it. I have nothing to be sorry for!"

Vanitas glares at Roxas, and Roxas would've been scared if he hadn't seen scarier, that being his father.

"Really? _Really_?! You make he go through five years of shit and that's all you have to say?!" Vanitas hisses the words like venom. He swallows, strangling the impulse to strike at Roxas.

"Because I don't!" Roxas counters. "I didn't get your letters!" Roxas can feel himself trembling all over, like a time bomb.

Vanitas' expression suddenly changes. Like the flip of a switch, he goes from being angry and vicious, to sudden confusion and surprise. "What?"

Surprisingly, Roxas can almost feel his eyes water, but he blinks and they go away instantly. His own anger is starting to take over at Vanitas' sudden accession, but perhaps there's something they're both missing here. It has been five years.

"I . . . I didn't get your letters." Roxas repeats. They both now stand at the end of the stairs, next to Vanitas' bed.

"But . . . but that's impossible. I - I wrote you a thousand letters. But you never got back." Vanitas says.

Roxas shakes his head. He remembers asking his father for the first month after they got back from the Destiny Isles, if Vanitas had written to him, but his father said that it was delayed or that he didn't get anything at all . . .

"I . . . didn't get them. My father said that nothing came . . ." Roxas says and he nearly wants to slap himself when he hears his voice stuttering.

Vanitas looks to him, his anger is still there, but Roxas can tell that it's getting directed towards somewhere else. His lip snarls and he almost glances over Roxas' shoulder to indicate that it's no longer directed at him.

"That scum-sucking bastard -!"

"Don't you _dare_ speak of my father's name in vain!" Roxas quickly defends.

"Are you serious, Roxas?! After all he's done, you're defending him?!" Vanitas yells.

"Yes! Because he's my father!"

"The man practically ruined our friendship just he can use you to hold power when he can't!"

"Vanitas! Jeez!" Roxas screams.

"He will starve you of friends and fun and even his own love! Just so he can use you as an extension of his power!" Vanitas says.

"Shut up!"

"Why?!" Vanitas challenges. "Because it's true?!"

"_Because I don't care_!"

Vanitas stares at Roxas as his words settle into the air.

"I know he pushes me, I know he doesn't show his love for me directly, but I know that I'm making him proud, even if he doesn't show it! But once I take over his place, he will show me his love and he will tell me he's proud! Whatever it takes to get his approval I will do it!" Roxas says.

"Roxas . . ." he nearly whispers.

"I'm not broken, Vanitas. I'm not bruised. I'm stronger than I've ever been! All the pain and the truth, I will wear like battle wounds. My father made me into a warrior! A survivor; in more ways than you know! I've got thicker skin and no one can ever hurt me!"

Roxas' eyes are glassy, but no tears spill over, and Vanitas hopes none do. He's never seen Roxas cry before, and if he is to witness it first hand, Vanitas doesn't know how he can handle it.

"There's a part of me I can't get back. The little boy who grew up too fast. But I'm strong. I can run faster, I can climb faster. I'm better than before." Roxas' voice is lowering, and it's starting to quaver.

"Roxas" Vanitas hushes quietly. "I never said he doesn't love you. I'm sure he does. I just don't approve of how he shows it -"

"You know _nothing_ . . . about my father." Roxas says in a voice that speaks of Vanitas to watch his words. He glares at him. "And no one asked for your approval."

He turns his head away and Vanitas can feel his anger and the tension of the moment slowly deflating. For the first time, he thinks he might be seeing the vulnerable side of Roxas. A side that most assume was long gone or didn't even live in Roxas since the beginning of his training days with his father. He always put on a tough face and to stand tall, but now it's like the clock it turned back and Roxas is twelve again, sitting on his bed in his room waiting for his father to walk in and announce his punishment.

Vanitas has half the mind to hug him, and even if Roxas fights him off, he will wrap his arms around him and not let go.

He tries to feed this thought and takes a few steps towards Roxas, who now leans against the supplies trunk. Vanitas manages to get close to Roxas, but when he puts a hand on Roxas' shoulder, he shrugs it off abruptly as if it had scalded his skin.

Roxas doesn't look at Vanitas. "I want to go to bed." he says.

Vanitas pauses, debating whether to still follow through with his idea, but seeing Roxas and his iron gate guard clanging into place, he sighs in defeat. He scratches his head and sniffs.

"You can take the bed tonight." Vanitas says.

This strangely catches Roxas off guard as he looks to him in surprise and question.

"I've got to finish some things upstairs, so . . . I'll be a little late going to bed." Vanitas says.

He starts up the steps, and Roxas has half a mind to thank him, but he keeps his mouth shut, feeling as if the dry skin of it has sealed his mouth shut. Vanitas glances over the railing and peeks at Roxas as he takes off his cloak and cast it aside on the vanity.

As Roxas settles into the bed, he's pleased to feel it being a real mattress as opposed to a stack of hay covered with an animal pelt. He snuggles beneath a warm quilt and settles his head on the pillow. It smells like Vanitas; a smell of something sharp with jasmine, but firmly masculine.

An aching in his chest keeps Roxas staring at the wall for a few minutes. His eyes blink, and despite the dryness he feels inside them, he doesn't seem comfortable closing them; and this is more than just his training kicking in.

To settle it, Roxas draws his dagger and clutches it to his chest. He imagines killing the pain in his chest with a swift slash. It bleeds red and permeates his thoughts. The pain subdues, but he can still feel it there. Roxas tries to let the cold freeze it over and keeps his dagger close to his chest.

The next morning, Roxas' eyes flutter open. He immediately notices the difference in the lighting, meaning it's daytime. His eyes flick around the wall and he blinks, but it feels as if his bones have been replaced with led, his blood slowing it's course through his veins until it feels like molasses. Still, he shifts in bed and feels control regain.

He rolls to his other side and sees the sunlight pouring into the room with the giant glass clock face. The place has a soft glow to it, like when waking in a cottage in spring, and dust particles dance in and out of the beams, multiplying by the billions. The place seems to have lost its oldness to it, and it has almost been replaced with a warm and cozy, homey feeling towards it. Probably another reason why Vanitas picked it.

Roxas pushes to a sitting position, and when his arm aches from the pressure, he looks at his shoulder. Peeling back his tunic, he finds the gauze starting to turn a soft yellow color from the blood and sweat. He needs to change it soon.

He rolls his shoulders and sighs as he ruffles his hair. He swings his legs over the edge of the bed, the wood floor feeling dusty under his bare feet. He looks around and then turns to look upstairs. He remembers Vanitas saying he had work to do.

Carefully Roxas prowls up the steps and looking out the one window on the front wall, he sees the foggy skyline of the city. From the sun's position, it's around eight o'clock. Most of the crew probably isn't even up yet, and safe to say won't be until noon when they've had time to cope with their headaches and have vomited up most of the ale they devoured the night before.

Turning his head he finds Vanitas sleeping on the desk. His head rests on his arms, his back hunched. Roxas approaches carefully and brushes a few hairs out of Vanitas' eyes. Seeing him sleep, he looks so relaxed younger. His eyes closed and relax, they appear charming and sweet as opposed to their glare and need Roxas sees in them when looking at wenches.

Roxas looks at the way he fell asleep. He looks around and blows out the candles Vanitas had left lit. Going back downstairs, Roxas stretches more and pulls on his cloak and boots.

But before he goes, he folds the quilt on the bed and carries it upstairs.

Draping it over Vanitas' shoulders, and tucking it around his legs, Roxas writes a short note, leaving it under Vaintas' fingers.

With one final look back, Roxas sighs.

"Goodbye, Vanitas. Thank you."


	12. Chapter 11

Roxas walks the streets of the marketplace with his hood up over his head, ignoring the sweat gathering around the roots of his follicles. He looks left and right for any signs of Axel or signs of the crew. He was going to just head to the docks, when his stomach growls like that of a ravenous dog.

He holds his stomach and only then does he realizes that he hasn't eaten since they settled in the city. Roxas looks around and considers taking a pear or something from the stands, but his stomach craves something more than a simple fruit. With the tavern on his right, he sighs and decides to enter. But his choice is arrested when a monstrous man standing at the door stops him.

"Sorry there boy, you need to be of age to enter here." He says. Roxas looks to him with a plain face, his eyebrows narrowed in challenge.

The man was tall and built with muscles that look as if large-sized rocks have been implanted in his arms. He has a shaved haircut with the triad scar of a clawed creature crosses over his one, now dead eye. His pupil is milky white, the red and ugly; the outer edges bloody. He wears a wheat brown tunic with the sleeves looking as if they've been ripped off. With his arms folded, he stands at the entrance like a guard of a King's treasure.

"I don't suppose a man of your stature can easily be swayed by coin?" Roxas persuades.

The man huffs through his nose like a bull. "How old are you, kid?"

"I don't see how that's you business." Roxas says.

"It is if you want to get into this bar."

"I go where I please." Roxas growls.

The man's eyes grow angry and he snarls. "Not here you don't. Now get out of here kid, before I throw you out myself."

"You can try." Roxas challenges.

The man's face grows aggravated and he unfolds his arms.

There's the sound of a scuffle and two men jump as Roxas kicks open the door to the pub, abandoning their dice and reaching for their blades. Roxas remains standing, glancing around at all who occupy the tavern, though he at least has the decency to close the door behind him before he continues his way to the bar.

The tavern has a large iron chandelier hanging from the ceiling, then a few sets of candles placed at the center of the booth seats that line all along the walls. At the center are several tables scattered about with men and wenches walking around, then there's the few drunkards vomiting in the corner as well as two lovers feeling each other up in the corner. A few prostitutes are around the bar hoping to gather customers, and they all now eye Roxas, even if they are sprawled across the lap of other men. The air smells of sweat and piss and alcohol, and yet still Roxas can spot a recognizable member sitting at the bar area in the back.

Roxas pulls down his hood, ruffling his pale blonde hair and approaches the bar where the keeper has paused on his duty of polishing a tankard. Roxas pulls up a stool next to the member and sighs.

"You almost look human, Axel." He says.

He hears Axel chuckles. "Ah, you survive on what they serve you here, you can survive on anything." Axel keeps his head down, staring at the counter as if stuck in a drunken stupor.

"How're the men?" Roxas asks.

"Hungover. What else." Axel sighs. He takes another sip from the tankard in his hand and sighs.

The bartender comes over to Roxas, seemingly bothered by his young age. He has a bald head, but a faded five o'clock shadow. He wears a white tunic with poofed sleeves that look wrinkled from him keeping them rolled up. Around his waist is an apron with more rags and a pen and pad.

"Aren't you a little young, to be here?" he asks Roxas. Axel turns his head slightly away, and Roxas doesn't expect him to say that he's here with Roxas. The only other time a child is allowed in the bar is only by escorted by a parent.

"As long as I pay I don't see the problem. Money is money, after all." Roxas says.

"It's bad for my business if my clientele sees I allow kids in here." The bartender whispers. "The last thing I need is a mother coming to me about how I let a kid stay and here and he goes home talking to her about a hooker trailing her finger down her son's cheek."

"Well I'm no child, and I have no mother." Roxas says.

"How did you even get in here?" he asks.

"You're bodyguard and I . . . we . . . came to an agreement." Roxas words. Axel turns his head slightly, his fingers coiling around the near empty tankard.

"What agreement?"

Roxas leans back and fishes out of his long black cloak a large, overstuffed coinpurse. When he tosses it onto the counter of the bar, its weight is so heavy it rattles the other cups and glasses, and gains the attention of nearly the entire tavern as it makes a harsh slap against the wooden surface. Axel can see on the pouch that it has a similar emblem as does the back of Roxas' cloak.

"That kind." Roxas sternly says. "Now . . . bring me your best meal, and if I don't approve, or if it comes back to me in the future, I'll see to your put out of business."

"What can I get you, sir?" the bartender stutters as he hauls the coin purse off the counter, away from greedy eyes.

"Some slices of bacon and a bowl of rice, and a glass of water." Roxas orders.

The bartender nods and quickly stammers off into the back room to retrieve the order. Meanwhile, a wench comes over and serves Roxas his glass of water. Roxas nods and takes the cup.

"How does a young man like you take coin like that?"Axel finally speaks when the wench leaves.

Roxas first finishes his two gulps of water before answering. "My job."

Axel shakes his head, knowing he should've guessed better with the son of an assassin that he won't be very forthcoming with much information even about the simplest tasks. "So, where were you? Xigbar says you went out to gain clients." Axel asks.

"If you knew that, then what part don't you understand, because it's arguably the clearest message I've ever given." Roxas says.

"Taking up clients shouldn't take you all night." Axle says, raising a questionable eyebrow at Roxas.

"Don't give me that look, I'm all alone out here." Roxas says as the bartender comes up with Roxas bowl of rice and a plate with four slices of bacon.

"Enjoy, sir." He stutters.

Once he leaves, Axel calls for a refill. "What do you mean you're alone? I thought your father had 'connections'." He puts air quotes around the word, his fingers arching like a crow's foot.

"It takes time for news to reach from one city to the next, Axel. Common sense tells you that, or has the sea washed that away from you as well?" Roxas takes a sip of his water, the tankard now half empty, and another wench is there to fill it up full. Roxas nods and she nods back before leaving.

"You sure seem to know your way around a tavern, boy." Axle says, ignoring Roxas' comment, though Roxas can hear the edge in his voice.

"Years of my father taking me out at night, showing me its life and dangers and wonders." Roxas says.

Axel stares at the boy as he takes a delicate spoonful of rice, gently blows on it and then places it in his mouth. Compared to his abrupt and harsh actions displayed over the span of one to nearly two days, this seems to nearly age the boy to his proper year. His face relaxed, and his tentative eating of rice reminds Axel of how Ventus eats. Soft, relaxed and calm. Roxas turns to Axel, the spoon still in his mouth, and for a moment, Axel catches a glimpse of Roxas in a near vulnerable state before his eyebrows narrow and his eyes shift to guard when he catches Axel staring.

The metal spoon slips out of his mouth. "What?" Roxas says through a mouthful of rice.

Axel can't help but smile and snicker. "Nothing. Just . . . remember we're leaving again at twilight."

"I won't." Roxas promises.

As the two mingle, a suddenly eruption of laughter catches their attention. When Roxas and Axel look over their shoulders, they spot two men sitting at a table with nearly three empty mugs, laughing and hollering and slapping their knees and clapping their hands.

A third man, a rather ugly man with a missing ear, looks at both men in horror. His eyebrows are furrowed in worry, and Roxas can already gather the situation. He must've told a story about something that's not believed in by many, and now his story was told and the men mock him for having an active imagination.

"No! No, I'm serious!" he says.

"I'm sure you are.' One of the laughing men says, he has an eyepatch on his left eye.

"No! Really! The Guilds, they're all in it together now . . . swear!"

More laughing. Roxas turns in his seat and Roxas flicks his eyes from the men to Roxas, seeing his face serious and stern.

The second man laughing, one with tattoos covering him from neck to ankle wipes a teary eye. "Oh really? And what proof do you have of this, teamwork?"

"I saw a Shadow Guild member!" the man with the missing ear says. This catches the attention of some other people in the bar, and the two men laughing seem to grow slightly serious. "Oh yeah, I saw him, and I could tell he was with another thief from within the city."

Axel looks to Roxas, but Roxas doesn't spare him a look, too locked in the story and not in the mood to find a disapproving look on Axel's face when finding out he lied.

"They were walking together, side by side on the streets like old friends. They laughed and joked, but I could see the blood. I could smell it." he continues.

"How do you know it was a Shadow member, and now you just being drunk off of the raspberry ale?" the man with the eyepatch degrades.

"He had the emblem on his cloak. I remember. It glistened in the moonlight. Waved over his back with every step he took, and his clothes, with one step into the shadows, he could vanish."

At this, a few of the bar's activists glance at Roxas and he can feel their assumption, but he doesn't move. Instead, Roxas leans further out, acting as another person at the bar interested in the man's story.

"You're making up nonsense." says the man with the tattoos. "The Shadow Guild doesn't have the connections here."

"Have you no _sense_, man?! Cloud Skyes is _all powerful_. His word is law, and his son . . . gods help us. His son is to be his heir and people say that he's far more ruthless, trained by his father first-hand."

Axel glances back to Roxas, and can see the corners of his mouth twitch up.

"A mere boy, able to become more feared and cold than his father. If I were Cloud, I would've killed him long ago."

"And that is why you are not Cloud Skyes." says the man with the eyepatch. "If you kill you child, you have no heir and therefore you cannot have immortality in stories now legends."

The man with the tattoos boasts. "I'd be so legendary that I won't need some snot-nose brat to keep my name alive. In fact -"

A dagger plunges into his back. He shrieks. The lovers in the corner dash out the door, the guy struggling to pull up his pants and looking damn foolish doing so. The wench shouts something about no blades, but Roxas doesn't listen. The man twists to one side, hoping to keep the blade from pushing in farther, but then Roxas' hand grabs his head and slams it against the table. Stars swarm before his eyes.

Roxas yanks the dagger out. The tattooed man clutches his arms against his chest, rocking back and forth as pain shoots through his body. Warm blood runs down his spine. The man with the missing ear nearly squeals and stumbles back in his chair, rattling against the floor and clutching one arm behind the back, gripping with clawed fingers.

"What was that you said about me?" Roxas sits opposite of the tattooed man, next to the man with the missing ear, now physically shaking in his seat. Twirling in his hand is the bloody dagger, fleck splattering across the table. The tavern owner nears and starts to speak, but a single glare from Roxas shuts him up.

"This is Guild business." He says.

That is all the tavern keeper needs to hear. He goes back behind the counter and picks up a grimy rag to smear across the greasy countertop as if cleaning is suddenly a priority.

"I overheard your conversation about my father and guild." Roxas says. "I wasn't too flattered."

"Wait," the man with the eyepatch says. "You mean, you're . . ." He trails off and Roxas looks at him. He evilly smiles, still twirling the dagger. Roxas can see the realization slowly crawl across the men's face, then slowly spread out like oil around the tavern as people's faces morph into shock and surprise and even, envy and desire.

"So," Roxas leans back, and arm draping over the chair. His first word is quiet. "What _exactly_," he adds. "were you saying about me?" His tone is calm, and that is probably what scares everyone the most. He is not a maniac, he is perfectly controlled, perfectly poised. Careful and quiet.

For the first time, Axel recognizes Roxas for what he is: a genius we well as a sadist, a cold and ruthless predator. Roxas' eyebrows lift, forcing creases in his forehead.

"I . . . I don't remember." says the man with the tattoos.

Roxas grabs his hand and thrusts the dagger through his wrist. The man squeaks, a cry stopped in his throat as soon as it starts.

"Try again." Roxas says.

The man coughs. No doubt the pain in his back feels like it's on fire. With how wet his cough sounded, Roxas knows he's pierced his lung. It's not fatal, not yet . . .

"Look at me." Roxas coos. He jams a finger towards his eyes. "Right here, right here, come on."

"I . . ." he stammers, and suddenly he breaks down. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't mean it!"

Roxas yanks the dagger out and then rams it back downward, this time penetrating the man's wrist. He screams. The women squeal and cower further into their potential hosts, others overdramatically gasp, clutching their hands to their chest.

"That doesn't answer my question." Roxas cruelly interrogates.

The man grunts and clenches his teeth in pain. Roxas snarls and twists the dagger, causing him to scream again.

"I was mocking you! Foolishly, stupidly and unworthily mocking you!" the man pleads. "But I'm sorry. I won't do it again!"

"You're lying." Roxas says. He slowly rises, keeping the dagger in the man's hand. As he rounds to face the man's front, Roxas looks him square in the eye.

"How could I lie?! I have nothing to gain from it!"

"You may not realize it, but you are." says Roxas. "Once I'm gone, once your wounds heal, you'll go back to your shenanigans and then you'll continue on your means to humiliate my father and his reputation."

The man shakes his head. "No, no I won't! I promise! Please, I won't ever say anything degrading anymore! Please, just let me live!"

Roxas stare unemotionally in his eyes.

"No."

Roxas yanks his dagger out and thrusts for the man's chest. The dagger punches through his clothes, and pierces into his chest burying up to the hilt. Blood runs down Roxas' wrists and he watches as the man's body slacks. The blood slid off his robes like water. He pulls the dagger free, wiping it clean on his pant leg, and then sheathes it.

When done, he turns and sees the tavern keeper looking at him with wide eyes.

"Burn the clothes." Roxas says as he tosses him the man's bag of coins. "Consider that ample payment for keeping your mouth shut."

He then turns and leaves the tavern, knowing that no one else will target or follow him. Axel still sits at the bar, not wanting to be accommodated with Roxas, putting a target on his back for anyone who thinks they can't take Roxas, they'll aim for Axel next. He waits about two to three minutes, when everyone has gone back to their doings and the tension is slowly deflating. From there he gets up from the stool and digs into his pocket.

"No charge." He hears. Axel looks up and sees the bar attendant cleaning another mug, his eyes down at the cup intently. "On the house." He adds.

Axel looks to him and the man nods, and Axel nods in return. He leaves the tavern as nonchalantly as possible and then turns right. Walking down a few steps he soon finds the boy in an alleyway, back pressed to the wall with arms folded and a foot resting against it.

Axel gives a breathy laugh. "You sure do take pride in your father."

"As I should." Roxas replies. "He is a man deserving of anyone's respect. Those who defy him pay dearly with cruel retribution."

"And you, are his heir to his criminal empire." Axel states.

Roxas nods.

"But is it something that you want?"

Roxas looks up to him in bewilderment. "Of course it is."

"Or maybe you think it is."

"What are you saying?" Roxas asks pushing off the wall, his tone insists that Axel is challenging him.

"Do you _really_ want to take over his rain? Is that something that _you_ want, or something that you _need_ to follow because it was thrown upon you?"

"I dare you to ask this to the prince of a kingdom. See how his reaction is, because I can assure you it'd be no different than mine." Roxas sneers as he exits the alley, but quickly turns away and starts to walk towards the decks.

"It's a simple question, Roxas. You don't need to be so defensive." Axel says as he levels with the boy.

"I'm not it's just, a reflex." Roxas says.

As they head for the docks, Axel can't help but listen to the clanking of the boy's gun, as it's tied at the grip and clangs against his daggers. Axel chuckles. "You shouldn't carry your gun like that. You need a holster."

Roxas stops and looks down at the gun. "I don't know where to get one."

"I might have one that's about that size."

Roxas looks up in surprise. "There are sizes?"

Axel smiles and softly laughs at the boy's sudden naive nature. He may know a lot about poisons and daggers, but when it comes to foreign things such as guns and sailing, he's as lost as, Ventus really. So innocent rather, and while the word may sound so foreign for a term to describe Roxas, it's all Axel can think of to describe the boy at the moment.

"Yes. And there are more kinds than that, or more rather different designs." Axel says. "And unless you're just wearing it for show, you need to learn how shoot it."

"I would if I had the time."

"So what do you call right now?" Axel teases, but Roxas only looks to him straight-faced.

"What are you implying?" Roxas says with a rather, pleased tone. Axel smiles back, knowing the boy is bound to be excited for his next anticipated answer.

But Axel only continues to smile and takes the boy's hand. "Come on." He feels Roxas naturally wrench his hand away, but Axel doesn't act like it's bothering him.

"Where are we going?" Roxas asks.

"Just follow me." Axel says.

They make it back to the ship by early afternoon, where the men have prepped the sails and raised anchor. As the men pull the bridge back onto the deck, Roxas hears Ventus call to steer clear. Roxas looks and finds the boy at the wheel, wearing a simple white tunic and a familiar navy blue vest as well as the Captain's hat.

Roxas walks over to the side of the boat, leaning his elbows on the wooden railing. He can't help but think back to Vanitas waking up to finding Roxas gone. A part of him doesn't want to leave without giving a proper goodbye, even if he's not one for sentimental intimate goodbyes. Still, a part of Roxas is appeased at the thought of him leaving the note, explaining all that's happened to him since their goodbye at the age of thirteen. Roxas sighs as he watches the city settle on the horizon.

Within minutes it's out of sight and the salty sea air wafts away the scent of the factory smoke as well as the scent of the baker's goods and the smell of fruit and soft perfumes.

Axel crosses the deck and calls to Luxord. "Hey Luxord, I hope you saved a few bottles."

"A little early to be getting shit-faced don't you think?" Luxord says as he gladly hands Axel two bottles in one hand.

"It's not for me." Axel smirks as he nudges Luxord. "Why don't you men head down to the pub?" Axel suggests.

"Why?" Xigbar asks.

"And lower anchor." Axel adds. "I'll need the ship steady."

"For what, sir?" Ventus asks as Demyx steadies the ship before Marluxia lowers anchor.

"I'm, going to teach the boy how to shoot." He states as he lines up three barrels.

Roxas looks down at the weapon on his belt, then carefully draws it, holding the grip with all fingers.

"And boy does he need it." Xigbar provokes, and while he earns laughter from the crew, Roxas gives them a glare and they cease.

"We'll dock here for now, the waters are calm and we have a day before the next town." says Axel. "And until then, you men enjoy yourselves."

Most of the crew salute him and head down towards the stern of the ship where the alleged pub is located. Ventus is hesitant to follow, and settles with settling into the Captain's quarters.

Roxas watches as Axel sets three empty wine bottles onto the top of the barrels. Once that's done, he goes over to Roxas and reaches behind him, pulling out a leather holster sheath made to cinch a smaller waistline. Axel hands it to Roxas. Peeking at how Axel' has his, Roxas slings it on his waist like a belt. Axel then then pulls out his own pistol and grips it firmly.

"Okay, I want you to watch me now." He instructs. "This is far more powerful than a dagger, and it has quite the kickback. So you need to grip it firmly, and do it with the hand you're most comfortable with."

Roxas nods and looks at Axel's grip on the weapon. He tries to mimic it, but Axel corrects him.

"Not like that. See that little hook? That's called the trigger, the outer part is the trigger guard. You want your pointer finger on the trigger, but lightly. Don't want you shooting up the entire deck."

Roxas nods and gets his hand used to the strange holding of the gun. Normally with his daggers he has all fingers gripping on handle, here his one pointer needs to be stretched and bend to sit smoothly into the trigger.

"Where does my thumb go?" Roxas asks.

"On the outside of your fingers, but make sure it's able to reach back and pull he hammer, this little bit right here, otherwise known as the safety. This'll keep the bullet from firing should you accidentally shoot."

"I don't make accidents." Roxas says, and Axel laughs.

"Then how do you suppose you got on our ship boy?" he asks.

With this Roxas is silent, with a small hint of pink on his cheeks.

"So, watch me."

Axel faces the port beam of the ship, the three barrels with two bottles each on the tops. He stands with his feet apart, holds the gun in both hands, and fires. The bang is so loud it hurts Roxas' ears. Roxas cranes his neck to look at the bottles. The bullet went thought the middle of the one on the far left, shattering it to bits.

Roxas turns to the barrel on the far right. He takes a deep breath, sets his feet shoulder-width apart, and delicately wraps both hands around the handle of the gun. It's heavy and easy to lift away from his body, and he wants it far away from his face as possible.

He squeezes the trigger, hesitantly at first and then harder, cringing away from the gun. The sound hurts his ears and the recoil sends his hands back, towards his nose. Roxas stumbles, and his hand winds up gripping on Axel's arm for balance. Roxas doesn't know where the bullet went, but he knows it's no near the target.

He feels Axel's chest vibrate from a laugh. "Things take time, Roxas. You of all people should know this."

Roxas straightens himself out and fires again and again, and none of the bullets hit the bottles.

Axel has meanwhile settled into a stool near the mainmast of the ship. "Okay, well you had to have hit at least one bottle by now, even if it's just a braise wound."

"Is that so?" Roxas says without inflection.

"Yeah. I actually expected better." Axel challenges. He takes the gun from Roxas' hand and reloads it for him; Roxas' eyes watching calculatingly.

Roxas grits his teeth and turns towards the middle barrel, resolving to at least stand still. If he can't master this weapon, what kind of son would he be to his father? Then again, how would his father handle such an advanced piece of weaponry?

Roxas squeezes the trigger, hard, and this time he's ready for the recoil. It makes his hands jump back, but his feet stay planted. A bullet hole appears at the neck of the bottle, and Roxas sees it for a split second before the top of the bottle is blown off.

Roxas raises an eyebrow at Axel.

"Ah, now that's more like it. A little pressure and your hesitation turns to determination." He says.

Roxas smiles a little.

"Hey, you actually cracked a smile." Axel smiles easily.

Roxas shakes his head, rolling his eyes as he turns back to the barrels. Now with four of the six bottles they had before, it takes Roxas five rounds to hit the middle of the bottle, and when he does, a rush of energy goes through him. He is awake, eyes wide open, his hands warm. Roxas lowers the gun, slipping it into the holster. There is power in controlling something that can do so much damage – almost like how his father must see him.

The thought leaves Roxas bewildered at how he feels. Proud? Important? Used?

Looking at Axel, clapping and smiling and praising Roxas at a bull's-eye, Roxas can't help but fester the feeling of being welcomed.

Maybe there is something more to him than blade and shadow; silence and death.

He holds onto this feeling as he continues to trifle through Axel's bullet supplies.


	13. Chapter 12

By the time they break for dinner, Roxas' arms throb from holding up the gun and his fingers are hard to straighten. He massages them on the way down to the pub. The throbbing only intensifies the wound still healing in his shoulder. He managed to get the hang of the gun quickly, even managing to shoot off the rest of the bottles and reload his gun twice.

"You're a fast learner, Roxas."

"Of course." Roxas says.

Axel rolls his eyes as he leads the boy down to the pub. Pushing open the door, they enter with the men clanking glasses and the tinkling of silverware on plates. Luxord, Marluxia and Xigbar are all at the bar area while Ventus and Demyx are seated at a table, Demyx still strumming on a liar now. His feet are propped up on the table, leaning back in his chair.

"Hey! You guys finished?" Demyx smiles with a dramatic strum of the strings.

Roxas sits down next to Ventus, and Axel sits next to Roxas.

"How about a celebratory drink?" Axel says as he motions towards a crewman to drink over a drink.

"Think he can handle it?" Demyx says as he takes his feet off the table, still strumming the liar.

"Depends whether he wants to drink or not." Axel says looking to Roxas.

Roxas remembers his father saying how no strong drink shall pass his lips; but was that only specific to being the brothels? No, his father wants him pure. But then again, should Roxas encounter these things in the future, wouldn't be important for him to know his tolerance of alcohol?

"I'll see." Roxas says. A fair answer.

Axel shrugs as a man with no shirt and a heavy scar cutting across his chest, hands the men three metal tankards.

"You drink, Ventus?" Roxas asks.

"Why are you so surprised?"

Roxas leans back and holds his hands up. Roxas watches as the men exchange conversation, their voices mixing in with the rest of the voices of the other crewmen. Their voices getting lost in the mingling of silverware, clinking glasses and silverware ticking against plates. A group of men at the bar erupt into laughter. Roxas sits there quietly, listening to the conversations, though none seem so interesting. Soon Demyx finishes half of his second drink and asks Roxas.

"So, I know you said you don't sing, but do you know any songs?"

"What do you mean?" Roxas asks, perplexed.

"Like don't you know any sea shanties? Lullabies, songs in general?" Demyx asks.

"No, I don't recall. My father didn't see the point in lullabies."

"So, you never grew up with any kind of music?" Ventus asks and Roxas cringes at the pity in his voice.

"No. It was irrational and rather pointless for me to learn when in my line of work." Roxas explains.

"Not even bedtime lullabies, or . . ."

"Nope."

"Well!" Demyx claps his hands. "That's all about to change! I hope you're a good singer!"

"No." Roxas rejects and is about to get when Demyx grabs his wrist and plops him back down into the seats.

"Wait! Come on, let loose. You're not with your dad at the moment, and you're adaptable." Demyx persuades. "You're going to learn how to sing."

"Singing is a skill?" Roxas doubts.

"Of course!" Demyx chimes. "And once I'm done teaching you, you'll be as _golden voiced as me_!" he sings near the end.

"I think I heard the glasses crack." Ventus says as his pinky finger digs around in his ear pretending to regain hearing.

Demyx waves off his comment and nudges Roxas' shoulder. "Come on. Let me show you a few songs."

"I . . . I don't think so." Roxas denies.

"Awww, don't be modest. I'm sure you're fine. Now come on. I've got some lyrics you can read off." Demyx pulls out a small leather journal with small faded parchment papers. He opens it and it naturally falls to a page and Demyx flattens it out with his fingers. "Okay! This is a good one!"

Roxas leans over and reads the title written in Demyx's not so easy-to-read hand writing. In quotation marks, it reads "Good Morning Ladies All" The song seems rather long and Roxas doesn't know the tune.

"Uh . . . I don't know how to -"

"Don't worry, I'll sing the first chores and once we get the whole crew singing, you don't have to worry about being like, alone." Demyx says with a smile. "Okay! Here we go!"

Demyx starts.

"We are outward bound for Kingston Town!"

"_With a heave oh haul_!" the crew finishes.

"And we'll heave the ol' wheel round and round."

"_Good monin' ladies all_!"

As the men finish, Demyx nudges Roxas' arm and Roxas quickly gazes at the paper to read the lyrics.

"And when we get to Kingston Town." Roxas suddenly chimes.

"_With a heave oh haul_!" the crew sings with a much more happy tone.

"'Tis there we'll drink and sorrow drown." Roxas sings.

"_Good monin' ladies all_!"

Demyx laughs and takes over once more. "Them gals down south a free an' gay!"

The men continue this song until the end, as it's simple and repeats four times with little variation. Roxas manages to sing along, and admittedly it is enjoyable, but something about him some part of him refuses to enjoy it. It's like he's so desperate to cling to what he is that he refuses to allow himself to enjoy any part of his time with the pirate crew. Or perhaps it's because when down to the nitty-gritty it's because it doesn't matter whether he has a good time or not. The men just want the money. He's still a prisoner, he's still being held captive.

Roxas feels a small pang in his chest at the reminder. Is it because he doesn't want to think of it like that? Or perhaps it's because he feels so, welcome that it doesn't even feel like he's a captive anymore? The men want him to drink and sing and dance, like they don't even care about the money. And Roxas can't give them the credit of trying to trick him, no sea man like them is that cunning.

Still, Axel trusted him to be alone in the town, and despite being absent for the time they were in the Destiny Isles, he didn't questions Roxas nor pressure him into telling the truth. Probably because he knew Roxas wouldn't give him an answer. Still, he let Roxas roam unchaperoned, and even showed him how to handle a gun.

Xigbar slams down a bottle on the table. Roxas runs his sleeve across the top and take a couple gulps before he comes up choking. It takes a few minutes to compose himself, but inside the liquor feels like fire and Roxas hates it. After a couple more gulps, he denies more, sliding the bottle to the middle of the table where it's instantly taken by Luxord.

Maybe, in a way he is really trying to get Roxas to trust him. Naturally Roxas denies it, and morphs it into thinking that Axel's doing it just so he can gain the reward for Roxas, then once he leaves with the gold he'll forget all about him. Roxas fists his hands and when he sees Axel and Demyx distracted, he gets up and leaves the pub.

Out on the main deck, the quiet is welcoming. Away from the men laughing and the loud cheering. The sky has surrendered to the night and start poke holes in the velvet backdrop. The moon shining clearly, Roxas looks down at the water to see its reflection rippled and distorted. Still and quiet, Roxas notices the bottle bits still scattered along the deck. He sighs and thinks of the men stumbling out of the pub and accidentally falling into the glass. Not wanting to be indirectly responsible for the injuries of another man, Roxas sighs and starts to sweep the glass with a broom he finds near the stern of the ship, tucked away in the corner with a bucket and mop.

Sweeping up the bits of glass, with nowhere else to put them, Roxas dumps them over the side and into the water.

The sounds of the pub muffled, the sweeping becomes the only sound I his ear, the sound of the bits ticking together and the soft ripple of water.

It's when he dumps the last of the bottles over the edge does he hear it. A caw. Roxas looks up and around, thinking it's his imagination, or maybe one of the men. But the more he looks at the dark sky, the better he can see it.

Something flies around the mainmast of the ship, up near the crow's nest. It's so black that it blocks out the starts momentarily before turning around and coming back. The black shadow moves between one of the shrouds, and Roxas registers the silhouette of one huge black bird. Roxas follows the thing around, waiting for the sound to come again. And when it does, he hears a triple call; the sound falling harsh on Harry's ears, rasping and raw. Roxas feels his blood spike with excitement.

He quickly drops the broom and leap up onto the shrouds. One foot in front of the other, he effortlessly climbs up the robes, reaching the crow's nest, having to swipe aside the flag as he enters the nest.

Breathing slightly ragged, he looks around. With a ruffle of feathers, he notices it sitting on the yard of the nest. It makes no sound, though it seems to watch him from its perch. Roxas holds out his hand and clicks his tongue three times like when it called. The bird cocks its head to the side, glaring an iridescent eye at Roxas. Then it hops towards him, flapping onto his hand.

"Good to see you Charlie." Roxas says as he pets the bird's crest. Ruffling his feathers, Charlie whips his head back and immediately begins preening his quills and fluffing his body to look like a puffball. Roxas snickers as he scratches the bird's neck.

Looking at his right leg, Roxas can see the bird has a note tied around with a dark string. The silhouette of violet lines showing like dark veins through pale skin. The white is a heavy contrast against his black feathers.

Roxas tentatively unties the note, and Charlie hops up on Roxas' shoulder. It feels so real and solid in his hands. Roxas runs his thumb over the smooth surface of the paper. He holds it against his chest for a few heartbeats before opening it. Roxas leans against the post of the nest as he reads his father's handwriting in elegant lines of purple ink.

_Roxas, I don't know where the men have taken you, and I'm sure you don't know where you are exactly, but I can promise you, I'm doing everything I can to get you back home._

_Should you ever stop in a town, look to the shadowmarks. They will lead you to another guild. We have connections all over each city there is in this god-forsaken world, so you should be able to find someone._

_I already have my men branching out. Now you must do your part._

_If you have to, kill every man on that ship, leave their bodies for the sharks, or claim you were kidnapped._

_Do whatever it takes for you to get to me._ _You can do this._

_I know you can._

_Remember everything I've taught you. You're ready for this._

Roxas is shaking like he's been caught in a snowstorm with nothing on but his underclothes. His father is looking for him. His father is worried. He's sent out word of Roxas' situation and now other guilds will be targeting Axel and his crew.

Suddenly everything hits Roxas like a ton of bricks.

Once the men are attacked by a Guild member, said to be sent by Roxas' father, they might think he betrayed the, went back on his word and went calling to his father and told him what happened, ordered the men to ready themselves and said, "Go get him!"

He leans against the post, holding the note with still shaking hands. What startles him the most it the confliction he feels in telling the crew about it, or not given he has no ties to them and that he shouldn't care.

He doesn't have to think much about it for as he tries to figure out what to do, a woman's humming keeps distracting his thoughts, as if pulling his attention to the side with a string. Charlie the crow caws shattering all his thinking and nearly startles Roxas. He flies off of Roxas' shoulder and flies widely around the ship.

Roxas pushes to stand peers over the crow's next, peering around at all the still water. As he looks, the darkness clears. A scratchy grey image, fuzzy around the edges and frayed through the middle, like an old-time movie, comes into view. In the distance, he can see the outline of the dark figures. A dim violet light radiates through the arrangement of thin black blobs. His heart jarring in his chest, Roxas leaps over the edge of the bucket and quickly sides down the shrouds, ignoring the rope burn on his hands.

Planting his feet on the deck, he hurries over to the pub door, about to knock when he hears name called.

"_Roxas_." A gentle voice whispers. Roxas' hand stops just short of banging on the wood, arrested at the feminine calling of his name.

He doesn't dare look over his shoulder, his attention still on the door, but smoothing feels . . . wrong. The moment his name was called, his mind went fuzzy for a brief second. Like the feeling of pins and needles rippling in his head and he's having trouble remembering what he was doing.

"_Roxas_." The voice coos again. The tone deep and throaty, but still wholly feminine.

This time Roxas can't fight the urge. He turns to look over his shoulder, but no one is there. His gaze draws to the water, where the purple dim light emanating from beneath the surface has turned a soft blue and green gathered in a single spot; like an oil spill in the water.

Roxas, perplexed, peeks his head to the side and draws himself up to the starboard bow of the boat. He looks left and right to find no one. This name is called a third time it's directly over the edge. Leaning over, Roxas watches as a single blob seeps from the blue and green mass. It approaches the ship, and despite all the red flags hoisting in his mind, Roxas doesn't move. He doesn't even feel threatened.

Slowly, the blob stops and Roxas feels himself leaning back as the top of a head rises up, the water falling out around her sides like a fountain. He knows it's a woman within the first five seconds as she rises.

Layers of glowing pale green drape and sling to the curvatures of her slight though tall frame, and it's as though the fabric itself is made from moonlight. A gauzy white veil of white covers her head, like a cerement of a grave. She is beautiful. Luminescent, like a silver cut from a dying star. Trails of gently curling hair, thick and raven black, tumble past the length of her fingertips, a stark contrast to the white. Behind the veil, two large onyx eyes stare fixated on him.

It's a moment before Roxas can speak. "Who . . . who are you?"

"You don't remember?" the apparition answers. "I am Bess."

Roxas swallows, his mouth gone dry suddenly. _Remember_? He has no recollection of this girl, and yet, her words bounce around in his head until he feels a budding memory desperately trying to break through the blackness of his mind. _Had he met her before_?

"My sisters and I sure did miss you, Roxas."

"Sisters?"

Roxas immediately brings his head up, nearly falling over the edge of the boat as more heads have surfaced from under the water, all women with multiple different hair colors: red, pink, black, brown, blonde. They all smile and wave to Roxas, cheering and calling his name, urging him forward.

"It's Roxas!"

"Oh, hello Roxas!"

"Hello Roxas!"

Roxas stands up straight, his hands gripping the edge of the boat as he desperately tries to rake through his thoughts, but it's hard to do when all he hears are the angelic voices of the girls and his mind being fuzzy like fur.

The girls swim towards him, their motions smooth and controlled. Roxas then sees that the lower half of their bodies are replaced with fishtails. This notion surprises Roxas, but then again, he doesn't care. It's as if he's always known them to have tails.

"It's very nice to see you girls." He finds himself saying without consent.

"I'm so glad to see you!"

"Why did you stay away so long?"

The one mermaid that greeted him rises up and grips the muzzle of one cannon. "Did you miss me?"

The woman moves towards him, the veil falling away from her face as she draws closer. Gripping the muzzle of one cannon, he hoists herself up. She is dark beauty perfected, her cheekbones high and regal. Her skin holds the sheen of stardust and her hair, dark, massy waves of silk, seems to float about her like a black halo. It is her eyes, though, almost alien in essence, that holds Roxas so completely transfixed. Fringed with dark lashes, twin wells of bottomless ink, they trap him, and he finds himself no longer able to blink.

"I have" says Roxas.

Roxas gazes at the woman-fish and he find himself almost smiling. He's never seen such beauty, surely one of gods own creations. The woman lifts her arm to hold out her hand, the other hand holding onto the muzzle of the cannon. Roxas watches as the gauze sleeve slips away to reveal the woman's hand. Her open palm is whiter than the draping fabric, her skin as flawless as marble.

"Come with me." She says.

The door to the pub opens up and Axel and the men come out laughing and pushing one another. Axel laughing loudly at a joke Demyx made. Walking up the steps, his head glances around the deck for Roxas, seeing as how the boy abandoned the men at the bar. He finds Roxas leaning over the edge, thinking the boy is convulsing up the liquor. Axel approaches, ready to congratulate the boy on his first hangover, but as Roxas leans over the edge, Axel sees a soft green glow coming from the side of the ship. Then a webbed palm reaches up and caresses Roxas' cheek.

Axel's blood runs cold. Roxas leans over as the mermaid opens her mouth as if ready to kiss him, and revealing rows of sharp teeth.

"Roxas no!" Axel screams.

Roxas leans closer, then his body shudders. Warmth runs down his hand as he stares at the mermaid, his dagger thrust in her neck. He snarls.

Immediately her features become gaunt and inhuman through the transparent barrio of her veil. The white flesh of her cheeks sinks father inward to reveal the contours of her skull, her lips shriveling back to expose rows of tiny needle-thin teeth. Her nose dissolved into a hole while her eyes, hollowing, became sunken pits lit by two distant pinpricks of light.

The men have all ceased their laughter, their faces serious and attention turned to Roxas.

The mermaids all suddenly hiss and scream, same to the screeching of owls. One leaps up instantly into the air, but Roxas blocks her with the body of her sister. She hits it and slips off. Roxas pulls out his dagger and dumps the body of the dead mermaid into the water. The others hiss and shriek; their screams similar to that of a woman's death screech and a demon's howl.

Roxas quickly leaps back as another tries to pounce, and summersaults backwards, coming up in a crouched position with one leg extended out. He draws his short sword and snarls.

"Roxas, are you okay?!" Axel calls as he approaches.

"Fine." Roxas answers.

More of the mermaids leap up onto the side of the boat, hissing and screeching.

"Mermaids!" Xigbar shouts.

"Marluxia! Weigh anchor!"" Axel shouts and immediately the pink haired man rushes to the mechanism that controls the chain to the anchor and starts to rotate the handle. "Demyx help him! The rest of you men, we take on the creatures!"

The men draw their swords and charge for the beasts. Once the mermaids leap onto the deck, they whip their tails and slither along the wood like snakes. They hiss and bend and contort out of the way of swords.

He's heard about them in folklore and tales made for children. Fabled marine creatures, half woman, and half fish. Best known for sitting on rocks, staring into mirrors and obsessively combing their long beautiful hair.

But these aren't the creatures described in fairytales. These are dark creatures.

The men act like they've seen their fair share of creatures of fairytales. It if weren't for his instinct to survive kick in, he would've been fascinated, maybe even distracted, but now, now they are just like any other human. A person that Roxas must kill for his own survival, and he will treat them as such.

Roxas spins the blades of his weapons out and charges forward. He hears the slash of water and waits before jerking to the side in a roll. A mermaid lands on the deck, her tail barely missing Roxas' shoulder as he dodges. Like a snake, her body holds herself up and she hisses. Her short pink hair sticks to her head in thick wet stands and drape down to cover her breasts.

Roxas snarls back and charges for the creature. She tries to clamp on her webbed hands onto his skin, but with Roxas leather uniform, her slimy fingers can't grip. Roxas immediately knocks aside her hands and stabs her in the stomach. She grunts and hunches over. Pulling out his blade, Roxas finds it coated in blue blood.

Axel shoots at any that climb over the edges, and swipes his dagger at any who dare come close. Ventus tries to help Marluxia and Demyx as they crank the mechanism to raise anchor. But when one finally hoists, it carries two more mermaids. Demyx squeaks before leaping back. Marluxia glances at the creature. With her fiery red hair and violet eyes, she snarls.

With a harsh slap across his face, the mermaid leaps off and back into the water.

Demyx hurries over to Marluxia, dragging him to the second handle for the second anchor. "Friend of yours?" Demyx teases.

"Hardly." Marluxia answers.

As Ventus goes to help Demyx wind the handle, a slimy webbed hand claps over Ventus' mouth. Ventus screams into the palm as he feels himself stumble back into the side of the ship.

"Ventus!" Demyx screams.

Ventus tries to pulls away the slimy hand and he can hear the mermaid hiss in his ear. His hands fumbling, he feels the hilt of his dagger and pulls it out, ramming it backwards over his shoulder. His ear stings slightly and the screech of the creatures tingles his spine. He wrenches himself away as he hears the creature struggle to grip the side of the ship. Blood stains his hand and drips down off his fingers and blade.

Lifting a hand to the veils that covered her face, her skin no longer milky smooth but chalk white and tightly stretched, the creature pulled free the gauze with clawed fingers. Her ebony hair tumbled around her now racklike shoulders. Scraggly and thin, it began to fall out in stringy clumps. Suddenly a hole appears in her forehead and she falls off the side of the ship. Ventus turns to find the Captain with his pistol.

The deck has become mayhem of fish and men shouting hissing and steel ringing against flesh. Around Roxas, the screams of the mermaids echo in his ears. The men armed with swords stab the water near the ship. The rasp of their hoarse chants and the clang of weapons all rose into a hellish cacophony, converging with the mermaid's glass-shattering screams.

Roxas runs over to the edge and finds more of the mermaids using the muzzles of the cannons to hoist themselves up. Sheathing his blades, Roxas rushes to grab a bow and sheath of arrows propped near a small corner of the ship hoarding their newly acquired weapons. He leans over the edge and fires. He knows every arrow must count, and they do. In the eerie light, Roxas brings down mermaid after mermaid that tries to climb the sides of the ship; targeting eyes and hearts and throats, so that each hit means death.

The air grows heavy with trampled bodies, the scent of blood, and the salty stink of the mermaids. Roxas feels his heart sink as his fingers draw back his last arrow. He swears under his breath as he scours the deck for anther sheath. Then he remembers his gun.

Roxas can't even consider it as a mermaid launches up aiming to sink her teeth into Roxas' face. He blocks her with the bow itself. She bites and bites at the air, trying to chomp off his nose. She hisses, Roxas hisses back, then pushes her off and whacks her with the bow so hard it breaks in half and she's flung over the starboard quarter of the boat.

Within seconds, another leaps up into the air and dives like a bird of prey towards Roxas. "You're mine!"

Roxas can only look up, widen his eyes and his mouth agape in surprise before he's tackled by the creature. Their collision is so great that Roxas can feel them crash through the side of the boat, a searing pain stabbing the bottom of his spine and quickly traveling up to his neck, then his head feeling like a thousand splinters are embedded in his back. Goose bumps rise on his arm and his stomach lurches. Roxas can only grunt from the pain as blood drips from the corner of his mouth.

There's the brief sensation of falling, the air howling in his ears and his heart pounds so fast it hurts. Every muscle in his body tenses as the falling sensation drags at his stomach.

The water snatches Roxas with icy arms as he plunges beneath its surface. The impact presses into his back and shoulder blades like a slab of ice. The sound of combat becomes muted, a distant roaring that can't compete with the swift rush of the mermaids flying past him. He can't stop spinning. Can't break free of the current. Can't get to the surface.

This isn't good. He's in their territory now. They have the home field advantage underwater. They are quicker, stronger.

"Roxas!" Ventus screams.

"Man overboard!" shouts another crewmember.

"Axel, the boy!" Luxord shouts as he decapitates another of the creatures.

Axel has just shot another mermaid dead when he hears this, his head turning to Luxord, a numbness spreading its way through him, causing his skin to prickle and his entire body to hum with a terror that had not quite clicked within his brain yet.

He rushes over to the side of the boat and peers over, spotting the foaming water as the mermaids splash and huddle.

Roxas' lungs burn, and his brain screams at him to take a breath, but he's spun so many times by the mermaids , he no longer knows which way is up. He kicks out, lashes with his arms, and fights against the creatures. He manages to open his eyes under the water and sees four of them coming at him. He draws a hidden dagger from behind and drives it back, feeling the smooth skin of the creature behind him. With her grip loosened, he wrenches himself free, stabbing another one in the throat, her blood oozing out and polluting the water. The others stay away as if the blood is its own kind of repellent.

Roxas closes his eyes as he swims through it and towards the surface where he can see the light of the moon.

Axel shoots blindly at the water, his eyes searching for signs of fins and tails, hoping that he can help deteriorate the number of them from above.

Suddenly Roxas bursts from the water, gasping heavily, his clothes soaked and his hair plastered to his head. He coughs and grabs a muzzle of a cannon and for a moment Axel has to stop himself from mistakenly shooting at the boy.

"Roxas!" Axel shouts.

The blonde look up, his blue eyes wide. Axel expects them to show fear and desperation, but they show determination and control. Axel extends his arm out and shouts.

"Grab on!"

Roxas quickly climbs up the side of the boat. It seemed there is no way up, but his feet and hands find crevices, windowsills, and indents in the wood. He makes it seem so easy, as if a pathway is there, waiting hidden just for him.

He's just within reaching distance until his body slaps the side of the boat, clawed hands wrapping around and gripping his chest.

"Roxas!"

With two of the mermaids now on his back, Roxas still tries to reach, elbowing them off and trying to reach back and grab a head he can smash into the cannons. He reaches his hand out and Axel tries to reach it, but a third mermaid leaps up and grabs Roxas by the head, pulling him back.

Their eyes only meet for a split second before Roxas is pulled off the side of the boat and plummet back down into the water with a heavy splash.

"No!" Axel screeches.

Back under the surface, Roxas' ears roar, and a strange hum grows louder within his brain. Roxas is blind this time, the blood seemingly to expand like oil. There's an eerie quiet before his body lurches forward and then back as two mermaids grab him from behind and up front.

He feels one of them sink their teeth into his neck, and claws rake down his ribs. Roxas screams, his grip on his dagger gone. Bubbles come out of his mouth, his cry muffled by the thickness of the water. His chest convulses and he coughs, sucking in a mouthful of water in exchange. The pain in his neck and ribs brings red swirls to dance on the back of his eyelids.

The water burns his lungs, and he coughs again.

More water. More coughing. More pain.

And then it's gone. The pain recedes. His chest relaxes. His lungs stop demanding air. He is at peace.

Roxas can feel one of the mermaids brush their hand gently along his arm. He lets them spin him as the world darkens into nothing.

But something happens. He feels the movement of the water wash over his face, like they've scurried away. Perhaps they find him too dead to play with anymore. The movement brushes past the bite mark on his neck, causing him to cringe slightly.

His father won't be happy. Maybe he'll even be sad. And Axel won't get his reward.

That's fine. He doesn't care. Now he understands why mermaids like water. It's comforting. His head feels lighter, and it feels as if the water is cradling his head, his body, wrapping it in its warmth.

He now feels lifted of all burdens.

He is at amity.

But it feels short lived as something wraps around him, hauls him through the water, a brief braise of something warm across his face, and he breaks the surface.

Roxas coughs feebly, but his lungs are used to water now. They don't know what to do with air. And Roxas doesn't care. He wants to close his eyes and let the water take him. Let the tiny sliver of peace he feels swallow him whole.

But he can't. Because whatever is holding him won't let him slide under the surface again. With groggy eyesight, Roxas can see the water splash his face and cool his suddenly burning face. He can just make out through the murk a reflection of red and the plastered fabric of a sleeve against skin. Roxas' neck, now exposed to the chilling air, crawls with goose bumps and throbs heavily with pain. The air infecting the tiny holes in his skin, Roxas hisses, and coughs.

By the time they're hoisted up to the ship to the deck, Roxas' lungs are burning for air, and the peace he felt is gone.

Roxas is tossed onto the splintery wood, flipped over on his back, and Axel looms over him like a giant wet twig. Out of the water, and shaking from the cold air, Roxas automatically knows something is wrong. His head feels lighter, like it's filled with air. And when he moves, the world tilts at alarming angles. Axel puts his hands together, one over the other, and slams them onto Roxas' chest.

Water gushes up his throat along with the liquor from before, burning and suffocating, it fills his mouth and nose. Axel reaches forward and turns Roxas' head to the side as he spews out the water and bile onto the deck. Twice more, he hits Roxas' chest and Roxas has to spit out mouthfuls of the mixed substances. When Axel raises his hands a fourth time, Roxas lungs contract, and Roxas starts coughing on his own. Axel lowers his hands, sighs and turns Roxas to his side so any water he coughs up can dribble onto the deck, and collapses next to Roxas, his breathing harsh.

Roxas doesn't know how much time passes before Axel turns him over on his side to face him.

"You okay?" he asks, and Roxas can only lazily blink.

He's about to answer when his eyes widen and his breath hitches in his throat. His eyes widen and his heart jars in his chest as he watches Axel's red hair becomes fire and the braided strands morph into snakes, hissing and baring their fangs in hatred.

Roxas instantly scrambles up and backwards, kicking Axel in the jaw in the process. The crewmen surround boy and the Captain, but Axel holds up a hand to cease their actions as he holds his jaw. He watches as Roxas bangs his head against a crate and then curls into a ball on his side, and he's . . . whimpering.

Axel adjusts his jaw a few times before carefully approaching the boy. The crewmen back up as the Captain carefully walks up to the boy, kneeling down next to him. Axel delicately moves the hood of the boy's tattered hood and finds the two fang impalements on his neck.

Fear shoot through him. "Men! He's been bitten! Get the first aid!" Axel orders harshly. The men scatter and Axel stays close to the boy. His heart wrenches at what Roxas must he going through.

Tales of encountering a mermaid are rare, and most include the powerful hallucinations from the venom they inject to their victims. He lost several good men to the demons. Injecting like a snake, the mermaid's bite infect the host with their venom, said to be used by them to render him helpless when in water or on land. Many have said that it drives people to madness and that it takes at least three days for it to work its way out of the victim's system. So carefully created to target the place where fear lives in the brain.

Axel feels the urge to comfort Roxas as he watches the boy begin to rock back and forth in a fetal position, but knows that even the slightest tough could startle boy, and it's said also that adrenaline only hyphens up the effects of the venom. Ventus brings him the first aid kit as men dump the bodies of the mermaids overboard.

Roxas peeks through his forearms towards the crew. Or what he remembers is the crew.

The world tilts and morphs and bends in alarming ways. Nothing looks familiar.

The ropes soon turn into a carpet or writhing snakes. The masts of the ship bend and wriggle like worms, and Roxas fears the boat will tip and capsize from their unstableness. The black flag at the crow's nest laughs at him. Roxas watches as it comes up out of the fabric, and laughs at him. It hovers over him, coming closer and closer, and Roxas thrashes against it, screaming at it to go away. Tears burn his eyes. The splinters in the woods blow up like balloons and turn into rigid ants with their mandibles opening and closing determined to clamp tight around Roxas' neck.

The spot on the deck, where it had a puddle of sea water, has now become thick like tar and Roxas can't seem to wipe it off. Roxas watches as pale bodies – human bodies, but mangled, arms bent at odd angles, too-wide mouths with needle teeth, empty eye sockets – topple out from inside the mead barrels, one after the other, and scramble to their feet. They scream like demons and claw their way to Roxas.

He feels them grip his wrists and ankles in pairs. Roxas screams and thrashes with all his strength. He hollers like an animal and tears stream down his face.

"Roxas!"

Roxas desperately looks around at the familiar voice. It calms him and for a moment, there's a flash of normality. The door to the Captain's quarters. The sound of footsteps, or are they hooves?

Sick and disoriented, Roxas watches as he tries to piece together the familiar surroundings of what likes in the cabin. But it's useless.

The trunks have all been turned into coffins, the bodies of the members of his guild lie, with their arms folded, eyes closed in death. On the back wall where there should be antique swords and heads of animals, are the heads of his guild members. Vanitas, Zexion, Lexaeus. And his father . . .

_How did he get here_?!

His father is nailed up on the wall, the nails piercing through his hands and feet. His chest is cut wide open and his organs hang down to the floor. His eyes and tongue have been removed along with most of his teeth. Roxas is disgusted, and could hardly believe this used to be his father. Then he hears it again, the soft desperate moan. His father is still alive! In so much pain barely clinging to life.

Roxas tries to use this unlikely fact to try and calm himself down. But it's pointless. He thrashes and screams more. He suddenly finds himself begging to the mysterious strangers to stop. To let him go.

He's tossed onto a soft bed made out of clouds. The lanterns of the cabin seemingly turning more and more red. Roxas looks up and sees the men with pigs for heads and the legs of goats. They turn to one another, and Roxas sees a man with sweeping blonde hair approach him. His bright green eyes having a calculating expression in deep thought.

Roxas tucks his knees up to his chin, weeping and crying for it all to end.

Axel's heart hurts as he watches the boy weep and beg. This is the weakest he's seen the boy, even with their limited time together. One of the members went and fetched Vexen, the closest thing to a doctor the ship can afford. Axel isn't particularly fond of him, but right now all he care about it stopping Roxas' suffering. He watches as the boy's eyes dilate in and out, the black of the iris battling with itself to either consume the blue of Roxas' eyes, or to shrink down to the size of a pin.

Then there's the matter of his ribs. The claw marks seem not too deep, but still enough to leave rips through his black armor, tear skin leaving it hanging off and tinge his skin with his own blood.

"Will he be okay?" Ventus asks Axel.

Axel doesn't even look at the boy when he replies. "Honestly, I don't know."

Because it's the truth. He's lost some men to this toxin, and he doesn't know how to nurse them, treat them. Hence why they hired Vexen in the first place.

"He might. His chances are better than others." Vexen answers. "Most men would have expired by now, but it appears the toxin's only weakened him. He's small, but he's as tough as nails."

Vexen pokes the needle of a syringe into an ampoule and pulls on the plunger, making the equipment suck the clear liquid clean. Roxas continues to weep and weakly wriggle, his strength weakening.

"Anything you can do about his ribs?" Demy asks.

"The poison is also paralytic. It'll slow his heart and stop him from bleeding out. I should be fine and have enough time to try and speed the process of getting the poison out of his system." Vexen explains.

Vexen places a hand on the boy's neck, and Roxas flinches, his hands going to garb Vexen's. Axel is instantly there, pinning Roxas' wrists down, trying to block out his merciful screams that rip their air with their volume and amplification.

Axel shifts carefully around Vexen, then kneels down beside the bed. His grip lightening on the blonde's wrists. This seems to calm him enough that he stops wriggling like a worm on a hook.

Roxas looks to Axel, a vacant look in his eyes, glazed over by fatigue. His lips move, but Axel can barely hear what he's saying. He has to lean close, nearly inches away from the boy's lips to hear.

"Please. Stop." He begs. He lays there, sobbing, tears trying to squeeze out of the slits of his eyes.

Axel looks to the boy and sighs.

"Just give him the medicine!" Ventus screams.

This seems to ring in Roxas' senses as his head barely lifts from the pillow at the sound of Ventus' voice. He stirs at his voice, trying to reach him.

Roxas suddenly flays, trying to move as a giant praying mantis crawls over him, its legs pinning Roxas' ankles to the cloud. The mantis pins his shoulders to the cloud and opens its mandibles wide. Its tongue slowly slides out and Roxas squirms harder, his stomach lurching. He turns his head away, his eyes squeezing shut tightly. Roxas nearly vomits when he feels the tongue wriggle inside his neck.

"Roxas." Axel speaks, and the boy seems to freeze. "You're going to be okay. I promise."

Roxas turns his head to Axel. Roxas' eyes blink and the praying mantis is gone. In its place is Axel. His face shifts and ripples like Roxas is looking at a reflection of water, but it's still Axel, and when he speaks his lips move in unison with what he's saying.

"You're just a little sick, but we're going to make you feel better. Okay?"

Vexen injects the needle into the boy's wound. Almost immediately Roxas' face begins to relax. Axel sighs in relief. Now that he has drifted away on the painkiller, everything seems to deflate.

The men dismiss themselves out of the cabin, even Ventus, of course that could just be because he can't bear to look at Roxas anymore.

Axel sits beside Vexen as he continues to do his best about the venom. All the while, Axel' hold on Roxas doesn't go away. It only settles to him holding the boy's hand. With the venom now, preoccupied to say the least, Vexen moves on to Roxas' ribs.

Axel can see the drugs are trying so desperately to drag Roxas down to sleep so he won't have to feel pain of Vexen stitching his ribs clean, but the boy still persists. His skin shines with sweat and his eyes are barely open, but they still flutter repeatedly. Axel would suggest injecting him with more painkillers, but Vexen says that with his muscular but still small body, a second dosage could be lethal.

Roxas weeps, small sounds escaping his lips; almost chirping in essence, his finger twitch every once a few minutes.

Axel holds the boy's hand, and strokes the skin which seems to calm the boy in knowing there's a presence with him. He is not alone.

After another minute of seeing Roxas continue to fight the drugs, Axel leans in and whispers. "It's okay, Roxas. You can let go."

Roxas' eyes open more and look lazily up to him.

"It's okay, Roxas." Axel repeats. "You can sleep."

Roxas answers with an inconspicuous shake of his head. He doesn't want to go. Now that he's seeing Axel, he doesn't want to leave for the fear of the horrors that await him in stupor. The fear of being dragged under again like he was in the water.

"You won't be alone. I'm right here next to you." Axel answers with a reassuring grip and a stroke of his thumb on the boy's. "I'll be right here."

Roxas swallows and with one final grip to reply, Axel feels Roxas' hand relax as the drugs pull him under.


	14. Chapter 13

The next three days are torturous for everyone. For the men, in hearing Roxas whimper and sob throughout the nights he spends in the Captain's cabin, and for Roxas in experiencing wave after wave of tortuous nightmares brought on by the mermaid's venom. He tries to consult to himself that they're just dreams, but the toxin makes it so real that he soon rules it out, and just settles for having himself at the mercy of his own imagination.

He watches his father die in all tragedies imaginable and unimaginable. His guild is in shambles, the guards all killing them off, leaving their bodies to bleed on the cobblestone. His own body repeatedly getting dissected by strange beings morphed with animals. One man in particular, his head with that of a jackal, likes to lick all of Roxas wounds repeatedly, causing them to sting intensely as if by a million and one wasps. The next dream he has, insects of all kinds, click and hum against one another as they seep from his wounds and force their way into his mouth, ears and eyes. Roxas tries to spit, but all they do is twitch and sit up before charging again.

And yet through it all, a certain pressure on his left hand doesn't seem to leave his grasp. Roxas can recall multiple times in the grace periods of his consciousness, he would clench his hand and his fingers would feel mass. It would occasionally grip back, and Roxas could feel himself coming to the realization that it is all just dreams, until they begin again.

Axel continues to sit next to Roxas, long after Vexen has left and instructed Axel what to do with the medicine and painkillers should Roxas surface to consciousness or be riled up by his hallucinations.

Axel sits, haunched over with his hand still holding Roxas' as the boy drifts in and out of consciousness. A strangled cry would leak from his lips, followed by a heavy sob. The bed would creak, and the pillow would muffle the sobs, but it's not enough. Every time he hears the boy sob, Axel can almost feel the sound grate in his throat.

When Roxas would start to shift, Axel would squeeze his hand and rub his thumb over Roxas' and he would settle down enough. Still, Axel can't get past watching the tears stream down his cheeks, settling into a pool of moisture around the side of his head. He keeps a constant vigilance on the boy, waiting for him to wake up.

He would have to pat Roxas' forehead from the sweat materializing from the stress of the dreams. During what would appear to be a grace period, Axel risked getting up and stretching his stiff limbs. Ventus brings him food, but he doesn't say anything. He would occasionally stay and softly speak with Axel, and they would have small conversation, but Ventus soon realizes that he won't drag more than a few sentences out of Axel.

Finally on the third day, Roxas comes to his senses; but he lies still, waiting for the next onslaught of imagery. But eventually he accepts that the venom must have finally worked its way out of his system, leaving his body wracked and feeble.

Blinking his eyes open, Roxas waits for the room to spin or for the ceiling to wrap and twist into monstrous creatures. But the wood stays, and the curtain billow up from the window from a breeze of the ocean. Over on the back wall, there are no heads of his guild members, his father not mutilated nor dead. Roxas is lying on his side, though he remembers being locked in a fetal position when he first entered the Captain's quarters. Lifting a hand to his eyes, he finds them untouched by bugs and insects that never existed. He feels his neck, though, has a bandage over the bite mark he got from the mermaid.

Simply stretching his limbs requires an enormous effort. So many parts of him ache, it doesn't seem worthwhile taking inventory on them. He can see the end table has a glass of water, and a tray of medical supplies, including a filled syringe and more gauze and bandages.

Very, very slowly Roxas manages to sit up though it still earns him a pang of soreness in his side. What he thought was the cloud is actually the Captain's bed, the multitude of pillows scattered around it from Roxas' thrashing no doubt. He finds himself stripped of his uniform, left with only his undergarments on. White bandages wrapped around his ribcage and overlapped with the gauze on his shoulder.

The day is shining brightly, the sea is all calm, and there are no signs of mermaids trying to kill him. For a while, all he can do is take tiny sips from the glass of water and watch the waves ripple along the surface of the sea. How long was he out? It was nighttime when the mermaids attacked, and it's now day, at least early morning. The stiffness in his joints suggests maybe a day or two.

Holding the glass between his hands in his lap, Roxas tries to rake through his memories before he began hallucinating. But the more he tries, the blanker it seems. Almost like his fight on the pirate ship was the dream and his hallucinations was real.

He gazes out the window until he hears the door open and when he goes for a dagger, they're gone. Panic sparks through him when he rationalizes that the crew must've moved them along with his clothes. Insteps Axel with a small tray of food, looking up his eyes meet Roxas' and Axel nearly drops the tray.

"You're awake!" Axel breathes in relief. He hurries over to the table and sets down the tray, wiping his hands on a rag before coming over to Roxas.

Roxas carefully sends the sheets aside, his bare legs instantly shivering and crawling with goose skin. His ribs sting and he hisses in pain.

"Easy, easy don't get up so quickly." Axel instructs. "How're you feeling?"

"Confused." Roxas says.

"Let me help." Axel says. He goes and fetches Roxas another glass of water and a plate with a small sandwich. The thought of eating anything makes Roxas nauseas.

Axel sits down next to him, offering him the water in which Roxas accepts gratefully. A foul rotten taste pervades Roxas' mouth, and the water does little effect. Axel goes over the tray again and pulls up a honeysuckle flower. Roxas watches as he pulls the stamen through the blossom and sets the drop of nectar into the water. Roxas mixes the water with his finger before taking an anticipated sip. Warmth runs through his veins with memories of summer.

"What do you last remember?" Axel softly asks.

Roxas closes his eyes and sighs. "I . . . I remember, I remember the mermaids attacking the ship. One tried to seduce me. I killed her. And then they attacked the boat." Roxas starts with simpler things he knows is true and works towards leading up the dreams. "I plunged into the water, they bit me. I can't remember much after that."

"Well, to kind of fill in the blanks, for you, there is more to it. After you got bit, you started hallucinating, as is the effects of mermaid venom. We had to get you sedated so that our doctor Vexen could work on you. You've been sleeping here for at least three days."

"Three days?!" Roxas exclaims, when Axel nods, Roxas stares vacantly in shock. "It felt like hours. Or maybe even longer, I don't know."

"Yeah you were hit pretty badly. You kept whimpering and sobbing from the visions; tossing and turning nonstop. I can't even imagine what you must've seen."

Roxas barely shakes his head as he continues to stare.

_Three days_, he thinks. Three days he's been abused by the poison. Three days of the men having to hear him cry and whimper and beg. Three days of embarrassment and pity.

Roxas fists his hands and mentally preps himself for the snarky comments bound to be tossed at him by the crew. And then Roxas will have to kill them all. He knows he couldn't help it, what he saw is unspeakable, but when he imagines himself curled into a fetal position, begging an unseen beings to stop picking at his skin, he can't help but make fun at how pathetic he looks. Of course that's just how Roxas is, but he barely knows these men, and has still yet to figure them out. And even if the men feel pity for him, Roxas will slice their throats if they dare treat him like he is weak.

"They were worried about you, you know." Axel say, Roxas jerks his head to see the Captain still sitting on the bed next to him.

"What?"

"The men. They were worried about you." Axel says.

Roxas coldly snickers. "The only reason they were worried is because if I had died, they would have lost their gold and their heads."

"I won't deny, some men probably thought that." Axel admits. "But Ventus and Demyx, heck, they were worried . . . as was I."

Roxas looks to Axel, his green eyes filled with genuine concern. This truth makes Roxas' heart ache in ways he's never felt before. Did he feel, sorry, for making Axel worry? But why? Roxas barely sees him as a father figure, and yet, when compared and his father was in the same place, would he feel the same? Without a doubt Roxas knew that his father cared for him, even if he has a, rigid way of showing it. Roxas can't blame him for it, it's the life they chose to life.

He thinks to apologize, for making the men worry, but really he has no fault. The mermaid's venom act, what he considers abnormal. The men know better than to treat him weak and with pity, he's proven his strength before, and if he has to again – whether on the men or not – he will gladly so.

Still, Roxas feels that he should say something to the Captain, since Roxas did make him worry, and that he saved Roxas' life. He didn't mention that when retelling Roxas the story, but Roxas does remember Axel pulling him up over into the boat. Why would he leave that detail out? It held significance importance for when they be reunited with Roxas' father. But not knowing what to say, Roxas just nods his head and folds his lips in.

"You may have your bed back by tonight."

Axel looks at Roxas and exhales through his nose. "No rush. Sleeping with the men is actually a joy. I always had feelings they were gossiping behind my back." Axel shifts and says, "Now, I'm afraid your clothes are beyond our skill of repair. We'll have to take them to a seamstress for it to be restored to its proper reputation."

"What shall I wear until then?" Roxas asks, and Axel can't help but laugh at the boy's bitter tone.

"I have some spare clothes you can wear, unless you prefer some of the clothes the men have left behind -"

"No." Roxas states. "Seeing as how you're the Captain, I would hope that your clothes are of better condition."

Axel nods. "Of course."

Axel gets up from the bed, and Roxas is about to follow, but as he stands, he instantly collapses. If it weren't for Axel, he would've crashed into the wood floor, probably earning him another day in bed. But Axel manages to catch Roxas in his arms, Roxas' feet nearly slipping on the wood floor.

"Whoa, careful! Careful, easy." Axel says as he holds the boy, his one hand on the small of the boy's back, the other under holding the boy's shoulder.

"My . . . my legs feel weak. I feel like a baby deer." Roxas says.

"The poison isn't quite out yet. Maybe you just need to stretch."

"But even that takes an effort." Roxas says. "How long must I suffer this?"

"Don't worry. We just need to get you walking again. You were in bed for three days." Axel reminds.

Roxas can't help but blush as Axel leads him back towards the bed. How stupid this must look, the captain of a pirate ship, holding a young, half-naked assassin in his arms. Axel doesn't seem bothered by it as he sets the boy down back on the bed and goes over to the wardrobe. He opens the door and pulls out a simple white tunic.

"This should suit you fine. I'll have to find a pair of trousers. Or . . . let me see if yours is clean." Axle says as he shuts the door and tosses Roxas the shirt. "I'll be back. Feel free to look around some more. Your weapons are back in the white trunk."

"Okay." Roxas answers.

As Axel heads out the door, Roxas suddenly hops a little forward.

"Axel!" he suddenly calls.

Axel whirls around, stopping just as he's about to cross the threshold. He stares at the boy as he's sitting with his hands tucked in his lap, his legs bent beside him. He looks like an innocent child asking for their parents to leave a lantern on in the hall to keep monsters away.

"Thank you . . . for saving my life." Roxas says.

Axel's eyes soften and a small smile crawls across his face. "You're welcome."

He then leaves shutting the door quietly behind him.

Roxas stays in the bed, stretching out his limbs and moaning as he feels his muscles pop. He wriggles his toes and bends his knees, stretching his quads and hamstrings. Then, as he stands again, his legs wiggle, but he manages to regains balance. Still, it takes several minutes of pacing before Roxas' legs stop quaking. They still feel sore, but the pain shall soon go away when he takes some medicine. Roxas notices the tray on the end table, a small vial filled with a lightly tinted liquid and a small cup.

Almost instantly Roxas scrambles over to the trunk where Axel kept his clothes. He excessively digs through them and pulls out the note left by Charlie. Roxas clutches it to his chest and exhales in relief.

Still waiting for Axel to return, Roxas goes over to the wardrobe. Pulling open the double doors, Roxas finds a mirror on the inside of one of the doors. The boy in the reflection doesn't look like him, but it is. White bandages wrapping around his one shoulder and his ribs, Roxas can see the square bandage on his neck, strapped to his neck by medical tape; it's just entering the stages of needing changing, as its pale red and turning a wheat brown around the wound.

Roxas dares lift his hands and carefully peels the tape away. Wincing at the tug of his skin, he peels it back to find the two little holes in the side of his neck. A small stain of blood is on the bandage, but it look as if it stopped bleeding a day ago. Roxas wants to peel it off, seeing as how it's not bleeding anymore, but at the same time he doesn't want to risk getting an infection.

Placing it back on his neck, Roxas looks through the hanging shirts in the wardrobe, finding nothing more that would suit him. The closest thing Axel has to Roxas' old uniform is a dark grey tunic. Deciding it's better to wear, Roxas peels off the white tunic, wincing at the spasm in his ribs and pulls on the grey tunic instead. It's softer and stops at mid-thigh. The sleeves have to be rolled up three times the shirt is so long.

Roxas kneels down and digs around in the drawers of the wardrobe for a pair of trousers instead manages to find his cloak. Though tattered and ripped around the hood and hemline, Roxas thinks it looks, better. More experienced. Then the door opens again, and in walks Axel with a pair of pants on his arm. Roxas stands and brushes his knees. For a moment all Axel can do is stare at the boy and how much younger he looks. Dressed in just Axel's shirt, he looks more, feminine. Axel knows Roxas will stab him to death if Axel said that, but it makes Axel happier to keep the thought to himself.

Axel clears his throat. "You're pants aren't in the best condition either so I brought you a pair of Ventus'. I figured you boys were the same size. And I can promise you he is very sanitary."

Roxas walks up to Axel, and it's then does Axel see his true height. He could never get a point of reference for the boy's stature, but now that he's a foot in front of him, even with the tips of his hair, Roxas' tallness stops at Axel's chest. Axel feels his cheeks warm at the wonder if he were to give the boy an embrace, how his head would feel in the crook of Axel's neck. Axel quickly shakes the thought from his head as Roxas takes the pair of pants.

"Thank you." Roxas says as he walks back over to the table. He drape his cloak onto the back of the chair. Axel enters the room and makes his way over to the trunks, noticing the boy changed shirts. He watches Roxas step in one leg first and then the other. Pulling the pants on, they seem like a perfect fit; still Axel has to ask.

"How do they fit?" he asks.

"They fit, nicely." Roxas answers as he stretches and examines his waistline. "But how soon can we fix my clothes?"

"As soon as we reach the next town. Which, according the Demyx will be within a day."

"The man has some kind of sense?" Roxas asks as he and Axel switch places. Axel going over and sitting at the table and Roxas fishing through the trunks for his weapons once more.

"Uh, he has been a fisherman all his life. From the time he could crawl he's always been on the beach. Loves the water, hence why he became a sailor. Predicts weather pretty accurately."

"Understandable." Roxas says as he pulls on his leather boots. The fishes out his belt of throwing daggers, strapping to his waist along with the holsters for the guns. He remembers his bow got destroyed when facing off against the mermaids, so there's no point in searching for those.

"In a way, I admire the man." Axel sighs.

"Huh?"'

"Others might not approve of his choice, but he was confident in it. He spends his life doing what he loves." Axel says.

"You saying you don't like your job?" Roxas asks.

"I never said that. I love what I do, it's just . . . I can truly see the passion in his eyes. It's inspiring."

Roxas doesn't say anything as he slides his daggers into place along with his sword. He takes a quick inventory, sliding the note down into one of the pockets of the pants. Of his fifteen throwing daggers, only seven remain, then there's still his two ebony daggers, his short sword he's had since they left town, and the guns he obtained from killing the captain of the rival ship. Nothing back, but checking the ammunition, he needs to get more, doubting Axel is willing to share since Roxas wasted nearly more than a half of his ammo when training to use it.

When his stomach growls, Roxas goes back and sits on the bed, more than ready to devour the sandwich. Still he takes his time, inserting a few sips of water in between bites. Once the entire sandwich is gone, Axel pours Roxas the required amount of medicine as said in the prescription by Vexen. Roxas takes the medicine without fit and gulps down the rest of the water and a piece of crust to wash down its foul taste.

"It'll help, and the more you walk the better you'll get." Axel says. Roxas nods. Then Axel sighs and runs his finger through his hair. "Are you all right? I mean, honestly?" Axel asks.

Roxas looks to him, his blue sapphire eyes still as mysterious as they were when they met. He stares blankly at Axel, and then when his eyes blink, he looks away.

"Honestly, not really. But I'll get over it. They were just dreams."

"But you've never experienced anything like that before." Axel says.

"And now I have. I don't need help adjusting or anything. I have no trauma."

"You're too tough to need help." Axel states.

"Exactly."

"Or maybe too tough to admit that you need help." Axel says as he leans forward, his elbows to his knees. He can see Roxas freeze and tense up. "Roxas, it's not a sign of weakness to express how you feel. Let alone to your friends."

"Friends are dangerous." He says. "A reason why I don't have any, and don't care to have any." He says this looking over his shoulder and directly at Axel. "So, where the rest of the crew?" Roxas asks.

Axel leans back into his seat. "Some are down in the pub, the other are maintaining the ship. You're free to help if you please. I'm sure they'll all be happy to see you're alive." Axel insists.

"Very funny." Axel only shakes his head as they boy leaves, leaving his cloak on the chair.

Out on the deck, Roxas spots what he assumed. Men at work, heaving balls into cannons of which still haven't been used, hoisting sails to level with the wind, and mopping up the deck and tidying ropes.

For a moment, Roxas tilts his head back and lets the sun warm his skin. The smell of salty sea air and the shrieking of gulls overtake his senses. Then a shrill cry of joy breaks it, calling his name. Roxas turns and instantly finds Demyx near inches from his face, ready to embrace Roxas in a hug. But Roxas instinctively ducks low and Demyx ends up rolling over him, Roxas rotating and pinning him to the deck.

Demyx laughs. "Yeah, you're better all right!" Demyx laughs.

Roxas sighs and gets up, extending out a hand to help Demyx up. This makes Demyx look to him in surprise, but he instantly smiles and takes Roxas' hand. Roxas can't see what the big deal his, he does the same gesture to his fellow guild members.

Ventus comes up behind him and smiles, patting Roxas' shoulder in a more comfortable way. "Good to see you okay."

"Thank you."

"I'm so glad you're okay." Demyx smiles, instantly glopping Roxas and wrapping his arms around him. Roxas has to fight the urge to push Demyx off as the restraint of having his arms pinned to his sides makes him feel uneasy. Still, Demyx's hug only lasts a few seconds. "You had us so worried."

"I understand."

"Seriously. I mean, after Vexen our doctor fixed you up, Axel never left your side."

Roxas looks to Demyx in bewilderment. "What?"

"He stayed by your side, holding your hand as you fought off the poison."

Roxas is about to deny it, when he remembers. During his hallucinations, he always felt a pressure on his hand. It never left him, and when he clenched it, it would reply with a squeeze back. It was really the only thing that Roxas had as a sort of physical, tangible thing to reality.

"Oh, that reminds me, I need to speak to the Captain." Ventus says as he turns and heads for the cabin.

"Come on." Demyx nudges. "You can help me with the ropes." Demyx then scurries off down the deck and towards the mizzenmast.

"Rope?" Roxas says, his voice barely above a whisper. Almost immediately a flash of the scene from before emerges from Roxas' head. The ropes had become snakes, writhing and wriggling towards him. Roxas carefully follows after Demyx, carefully stepping towards the ropes. Demyx gathers a few of them on one arm and sees Roxas' hesitation.

"It's okay. They're not real." He coos. Roxas looks to him, staring directly into his eyes. Roxas almost wants to angrily shout at him, yell saying he doesn't know what Roxas saw or what he went through. But his message is very vague, and Roxas wonders if that was intentions. Demyx doesn't really know what Roxas went through, but he knows it must've been horrible, unspeakable. And his message is just a gently reminder that it was all fake.

Roxas nods and bends down, hesitantly running his fingers over the rough material before gripping it in his hand. As Roxas wraps it in circles, the more he feels the roughness, the more he relaxes. Demyx does the same thing, adding to his three.

"That's it. Now all we have to do is bring them below deck." Demyx says.

"Alright." Roxas says.

Ventus opens the door and finds the Captain sitting at the desk, hunched over a map on his desk.

"You almost look as if nothing's changed." Ventus says, capturing the Captain's attention. Seeing the boy dressed in a white tunic and brown trousers, he almost mimics the assistant at a baker's store.

Axel chuckles. "Oh you and I both know that change has happened one too many times for this ship."

Ventus walks over and stands opposite of Axel's seat. "The boy seems to be recovering well."

"I doubt it. He needs help. He's in denial." Axel says, he leans back in his chair and runs his fingers through the front spikes of his hair.

"What's bad about that? You can't force him to talk about it. He may even be dealing with it in his own way." Ventus says.

"But his way isn't the right way."

"And who are you to question how the boy deals with things?" Ventus asks. The question normally would've seemed like a challenge, but knowing Ventus, it's a reminder that Axel doesn't know the boy very well. "He was raised under the tutelage of a cold-hearted assassin. He deals with things, if he does at all, in different ways. The ways he was taught. You can't change him."

"But I can try to help him. I know from experience, if you keep things bottle dup inside, you might end up doing something you might regret."

Ventus feels his blood run cold and his body numb. Axel rarely ever talks about this. "Axel, that was years ago. A decade even."

"Well those ten years carry the weight of a century on me."

"Why? It was an accident."

"I was stupid. Irrational. Foolish."

"Drunk." Ventus finishes. "You took responsibility, you served your time in jail."

Axel only lowers his head. "My point is," He harshly states. "That I'm worried about him. I know what he is, but I still want to help him."

"You can't help him unless he _wants_ it, Axel." Ventus now stands next to Axel in the chair. His one hands placed on the back. "There's a difference."

Axel sighs. "I know. So . . ." he looks up to the boy. "how are you? You're first kill. Let alone a mermaid. How did it feel?"

Ventus exhales and drifts his gaze to the map on the table. "Honestly, I couldn't think much about it due to the adrenaline, but I guess that made it feel . . . good. B-But not like the way Roxas perceives it. More like I felt, proud. I was in battle and I survived. I'm proud."

"As you should be." Axel pats the boy's back, though since he's standing Axel's arm rests on Ventus' waistline.

"But about Roxas," Ventus suddenly brings back up. "Why is it that you care about him? I mean, not to be rude, but he's only on this ship for a while longer. And when he gets back to town, I doubt he'll want to remember this."

Axel shrugs. "I don't know. He kind of reminds me of me when I was younger."

"You were nothing like him when you were that age." Ventus nearly laughs.

"Yeah, but he's what I wish I was." Axel laughs.

Ventus leans a little against the chair. "Honestly, I'm a little jealous of him."

Axel looks to Ventus perplexed. "How so?"

"He seems to claim all your attention." Ventus says, his cheeks pink.

"What-?"

Ventus then leans down and places his lips on Axel's. Axel's eyes are wide as Ventus tilts his head to the side. Ventus caresses Axel's cheeks, and Axel finds himself kissing back. He sighs into Ventus' mouth and grabs the boy by his middle. Ventus leans more into Axel, placing a knee in between Axel's leg, causing the red head to moan. Ventus entangles his fingers in Axel's hair around his ears. Ventus raises his other leg as if ready to straddle Axel's lap, his lips claiming Axel's his tongue flicking Axel's, plucking it like a fine stringed instrument. Ventus moans into Axel's mouth, then he finally pulls away.

Axel eyes the blond wearily, wide and with surprise. "I miss your attention." Ventus whispers. Then he pushes off of Axel's lap and circles around the table. He leaves the cabin without looking behind him, leaving Axel in shock in his chair. His heart beats rapidly, and he breathes with uneven rhythm.

All the time he thinks, _What just happened_?

Roxas follows Demyx around the deck, aiding him in his assignments. He learns how to hoist the sails, haul the inventory of the ship down to the cargo holes, and even how to link the chainplates connecting the shrouds to the masts.

By the late afternoon, nearly half the deck is clean and at best ten times more presentable with most of the cargo below deck. Roxas sits on a small crate and heaves a sigh. He wipes his forehead and accepts a drink of water from Demyx.

"Thank Roxas. That was quick."

"Because I did most of the work." Roxas says after two gulps of water. "I feel like you tricked me into doing your work."

"Hey, I helped." Demyx corrects.

"Yeah, you only helped by correcting me." Roxas counters.

Despite the placidity of his tone, Demyx chuckles and nudges Roxas.

"A vast gentlemen!" they hear Zack call.

"Gentlemen?" Luxord laughs. "Think you've got the wrong men."

"Land ho!" Zack calls from the crow's nest.

Roxas walks up to the steering wheel piloted by Marluxia. He leans on the banister of the ship, gazing out at the skyline of the city in the distance. Ventus walks up next to him, placing his hands on the wood banister.

"Where did you go?" Roxas asks.

Ventus swallows before answering. "I needed to talk to the captain, and then I tidied up downstairs."

"Oh." Roxas shrugs.

"So you're for sure not at all interested in why we look alike?" Ventus asks.

Roxas groans in annoyance and lowers to dangle his head. "I've already told you no. And why are you? It's not going to change anything."

"I'm cautious. I mean, something about is just, fascinating. I mean, given you're more rugged I still think it's interesting."

"Haven't you heard curiosity castrated the cat?" Roxas quotes.

"Don't you mean 'killed'?"

"No." Roxas replies.

Ventus nervously twiddles his fingers and looks down at his hands as Roxas looks ahead to the town. "You look nice by the way." Ventus says.

"Oh, thank you."

"You look less, intimidating, without the black and cloak." Ventus adds.

"All the more reason to get my clothes fixed." Roxas says.

Ventus quietly laughs and sighs. "Listen, when we get into town, you want to go with the Captain and just, explore?"

"What town is it?" Roxas asks.

"I think it's, Atlantica?"

Roxas goes rigid and his hand discreetly touches the note in his pocket.

"So, do you want to walk around together? Unless you have more 'friends' to meet." Ventus puts in air quotes.

Roxas is silent for a moment, and when he answers he keeps his gaze ahead. "No. We can go."


	15. Chapter 14

**~Hey guys! So real quick note here; I wanted to say beforehand that all the sea shanty songs are from Assassin's Creed: Black Flag. The tracks are: "Randy Dandy Oh", then "Good Morning Ladies". Now for this chapter, for the effect, I'm using the "Kingdom Dance" track from the movie Tangled. There's no specific place where I'll say to start playing it, you can play it throughout the chapter or pick the spot yourself. But hopefully for those who've seen the move, or even by listening to the track, you'll be able to tell where a certain part of the song is, if I describe it well enough. But that's the note, also I wanted to thank you all for your support on my story, I really appreciate it, and I hope that it lives up to your expectations! Xxx~**

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"Yay!" Demyx squeals as the men walk off the bridge onto the docks. "I can't believe it! We're really in Atlantica! This is like my ultimate fantasy trip!"

For anyone who wants to know the definition of music, anyone will tell that person, Atlantica. It's a merry location where music is the heart of all its merriment. People playing instruments, locals singing songs of the kingdom, and street performers sprinkle along the sides of the roads. It's no wonder by Demyx would feel so at home.

The castle is located on the shore, surrounded by mountain regions, making entry into the kingdom by land risky. The castle is kept on the edge of a sharp cliff-face, limiting land entry to the main gate area, unless one was to scale the cliffs down to the shore. The only other entries to the castle are two from the shore. On the eastern of the castle is a dock leading to the hall of the castle where ships can depart and enter. The other entry way is a staircase leading up into the castle's keep that can be accessed by the shore. But the stair is narrow enough that any attackers would have to climb on foot up the stairway, allowing them to be picked off by archers on the barbican to the lefthand side of the staircase.

As the crew comes off the docks, Roxas looks up and gazes at the towering castle.

The design of the castle is cramped. The courtyard is deep within the walls; as well as the castle keep. To the eastern area of the castle is the hall, where the majority of public activities are held. And protruding northwards from the hall is a walkway that grows cherry trees, leading to what may be the bathouse.

The castle has many plate glass windows and tall ceilings. The eastern area of the castle appears to have three floors; the uppermost floor is reserved for guest rooms. These guest rooms connect to the second floor through a stairway that protrudes from the northeast corner of the main hall. On the second floor, one may be able to find their way to the dining room and castle kitchen. The first floor is where the docks are, connected to the castle courtyard, which in turn leads to the gatehouse.

The western area of the castle has a stairway leading from the outside, winding its way around the outer barbican, at which then, one would assume it connects the outer barbican to the inner one. This area is also where a ship is kept docked for unknown reasons, suggesting a second dock for this vessel in one of the barbicans.

Ventus hurries up to Roxas and walks level with him. Axel comes down and sees the two boys walking together. Ventus looks back while Roxas looks off to the side observing a young boy running with his dog along the sidewalk. Ventus doesn't say anything and just turns his head back up front.

Gazing at the boys, Roxas is a little taller than Ventus. Axel has a sick feeling in his stomach. He knows Ventus will never tell Roxas, but now Axel doesn't know what to do with the boy. Now that he's declared feelings for him, and Axel not knowing how to return them, he's stuck between avoiding the boy – which in of itself is impossible – and simply treating it like things never happened. Either way, Ventus gets hurt, but it's his own fault really; and Axel knows that Ventus will figure that out. So he finds his best tactic is to remain quiet and give the boys space. He decides to stick with Demyx as Xigbar and Luxord disappear into the whore houses. Marluxia is strolling the streets, clearly enjoying the looks he gets from females, and even a few males.

Demyx had given Roxas a small satchel bag to hold his clothes while they head to the seamstress for repairs. Roxas, feeling exposed without his cloak, grips the strap of the satchel with his hands as he looks all around for the shadowmarks as mentioned in the note by his father, of which he still feels conflicted on telling the others. He feels the note, tucked away in the pocket of his trousers.

"This is so exciting!" Demyx squeals as he strums his lute.

A man passing by with a smaller version, stops, smiles and waves. "Love your instrument!" he says.

"Thank you!" Demyx happily squeaks. "Yours too! Is that a six string?!"

"Yes, it is! And your lute is in such wonderful condition!" the man compliments.

The conversation would've lasted a week if it weren't for Axel taking Demyx by the ear and pulls him aside. Ventus laughs while Roxas smiles and shakes his head. As they walk down the streets, Axel can' help but notice at how rather, brotherly Roxas acts with Ventus, even if Roxas doesn't notice it himself. If Ventus would stop at a stall to observe wares, Roxas would patiently wait for him to finish.

They make it to the small road that leads to the area of the market where the stalls turn to shops, and one with a small, wooden needle and thread sign, a piece of the thread looped through the hole of the needle and winding around a spinning wheel, catches Roxas' attention. From the outside, Roxas can tell it looks like someone's house, the painted bricks chipping blue paint, a crumbling chimney visible on one side of the roof.

"I'll be right back." Roxas says as he looks over his shoulder to the others.

The door creaks, and a belt of rusty bells clings as he enters the tailor shop. Inside, the musty air holds an antique thickness, and the scent of perfume and freshly washed silk combines to make breathing a chore. The front room stretches before them long and wide, lined with rows of tall, sturdy manikins that posed with elegant dresses and gowns. Overhead in the chandelier, the tired light of torches burned a dull gold, adding little relief to the accumulated shadows. Carefully, Roxas stepped around a mound of bejeweled slippers near the door. He moves between two sewing machines and thought about calling out but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to break the dead silence. His gaze passes up and over the marked spines of countless dummies; every item categorized by its own number and date, and it makes him feel almost as though he are walking through catacombs. When he reaches the end, he peers around a three-way mirror to see a counter. Well, really, he sees a lot of fabrics piled on top of something that at one time must have been a counter.

Roxas effortlessly weaves around the people and dummies to a stockroom where they find a woman and a girl about a year younger than Roxas piling up fabrics and organizing pincushions. She a beautiful girl with bright green eyes, soft peach-colored skin, and brown hair. Her hair sticks out on the sides and two strands of hair fall from either side of her head, just long enough to drape over her shoulders. Her clothing has a Summer feel to it, consisting of an orange tunic with a white floral design at the bottom, khaki-colored pants, and cream, black and yellow shoes with black laces. She also wears a beaded, sky blue bracelet on her right wrist and a black necklace decorated with a spherical, sky blue charm.

When she looks up to Roxas, her eyes widen and then smiles. "Hello sir. Can I help you?"

"I am no sir." Roxas says as he drops his clothes on the counter. "I am no knight, and no noble."

"Sorry." She says as she makes her way to the behind the counter. "I'm not sure what to say that would be seen as respectful."

Roxas gives her a look of honest bewilderment.

"What could be more respectful that my own name?" he asks. Only seconds after does Roxas realize that his cloak is still on the ship, draped over the back of Axel's chair; leaving his reputation, or at least indication of who he is, back and away from all sights. He sighs and rubs his eyes.

"Right." She says. "Well, my name is Olette."

"Roxas."

"Is there anything I can help you with?"

Roxas looks to his clothes and Olette, with delicate hands, picks them apart. She treats them as if they are made of ash, and one gesture too harsh will make them dissipate into nothing. She carefully takes apart Roxas' clothes, seemingly looking more disturbed as she lays them across the counter. Roxas' tunic had severe rips in the ribcage area, and nearly tattered and ripped at the ends. His pants are torn, a hole near the thigh area nearly ripping the entire pant leg off. Then there's Roxas' boots which the leather has started to peel back and rip from the soles.

"This is quite the ensemble." Olette gently smiles.

"It's seen better days."

"May I ask what happened to it?" Olette asks as she carefully begins to refold the clothes.

"Uh . . . I ripped it on something stupid." Roxas answers. He leans forward on his forearms on the counter and watches as Olette piles up the clothes. "So, how long will it take to be repaired?"

"Um . . . judging from the rips and the amount of fabric needed, I would say . . . about fifty coin." Olette summarizes

Roxas puff out heavily. "Fine. What time will it be done?"

"If it's at your best convenience, I can have it done by tonight. Best estimated time would be, seven o'clock." Olette gently smiles.

Roxas smile back. He does raise his eyebrows and nods. "Very well. I'll come and pick it up by then."

"Very well. It was nice meeting you, Roxas." Olette smiles and nods.

"Likewise." Roxas retorts.

He exits the shop and looks across the street to find Ventus, Demyx and the Captain in a bakery. Around the corner, Roxas can see the store's supply of crates and boxes. For a moment he flashes back to killing the girl. And he smiles.

Entering the shop, the smell of yeast and chocolate wafts towards Roxas' nose, and his stomach growls. Ventus, gazing at display glass, looks over his shoulder at the chiming and smiles. He waves Roxas over. Roxas walks up to the group as they wait behind a family of three.

"Hey!" Demyx chimes. "How'd it go with the seamstress?"

"My clothes will be ready by tonight. Seven o'clock." Roxas informs.

"Okay." Demyx shrugs.

Inside, the shop is small with sparse seating. This, along with the do-it-yourself decoration and chalkboard menu, gives the place a very kitschy, family-owned feel.

"So Roxas." Axel says next. "See anything you like?" he asks.

"Depends, are you buying?" Roxas says. He goes up next to Ventus, and again Axel has a queasy feeling in his stomach. Ventus, still bent over gazing at all the delicacies, smiles and inches by to allow Roxas a viewpoint.

"Check it out. Don't they all look delicious?" Ventus asks smiling.

"Quite." Roxas looks through the glass and glances at all the sweets and breads laid sprawled on trays and reads the names of all the usual favorites sharing quarters with more daring combination like Cinnamon Rice Pudding, Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookie Peanut Butter Fudge Parfaits, and Baked Apples with Dried Cherries and Maple Syrup. For a moment he thinks about taking a chance with the shocking Citrus-and Spice-Churros with Mocha Sauce, but in the end decides to default to his all-time favorite – Chocolate Mousse.

"Which one do you like?" Ventus asks.

"You go ahead of me." Roxas offers.

Demyx seizes the opportunity and goes ahead of Ventus, earning him a pout. "Yeah, could I have a slice of the Chocolate Strawberry Shortcake?" Demyx asks.

"I'll have a couple of Churros," Axel adds. "You know what you want, Roxas?"

Roxas wanders down the long line of contenders to where the three stand waiting, trailing a finger beneath the little rectangular plaques that line a description of each baked goods.

"Yeah, I think so." Roxas walks up to the cashier. "I'll have a large cup of Chocolate Mousee."

"Coming right up." says the host behind the counter.

"Thanks Pence." Ventus smiles.

He's a rather heavy-set boy with light skin, brown eyes, and black hair and eyebrows. He holds his hair up using a black headband with grey lining. He wears a short-sleeved, white tunic with dark cuffs underneath a red vest with black and white lining. He also wears blue pants, blue and white shoes, a purple bandana around his neck.

"So, are you guys like . . . twins?" Pence asks.

Roxas looks to Ventus and quirks and eyebrow. Ventus nearly smiles and shrugs. "No, we're not."

"Seriously? You both look so much alike."

"Yeah." Roxas says, an edge of aggravation in his tone. "We're getting that a lot. But we're no related whatsoever."

"We actually only just met a few days ago." Ventus smiles.

"Huh, that's funny." Pence smiles back.

As he another co-worker put together the order, Roxas leans his hip against the soft humming display case. He stares through the glass, thinking about the note and the potential contact living in the city. Now that he's actually gotten outside and breathed fresh air, he's had time to get his thoughts together and put together a potential strategy.

A small little, creature looking like a plush toys, with a large spherical head, small ears and stubby hands and feet, stacks all the baked goods in brown paper bags. Roxas gazes at the creature in curiosity, not seeing them before in his town. Their eyes are narrowed into brown slits and their noses are bulbous and pink. But the most distinctive trait is the large, red, spherical pom-pom on attached to the tops of its head by a thin, brown antenna.

"Never seen a Moogle before?" Pence asks as he hands Ventus the change.

Roxas continues to stare at the creature as it goes and begins to wipe down the few tables in the shop. Roxas ignores Pence and wanders over to the Moogle and as its wiping pokes its side. The Moogle jolts and squeaks, then gently slaps Roxas' hand away. He hears a few customers snicker, but his curiosity prevents him from throwing his daggers at them.

Once they leave the shop, Demyx and Ventus carrying the brown bags, they wander down the streets, and Demyx practically shoves the bags off to Roxas.

"Hey!" Roxas says.

"Moogle Cheese!" Demyx squeals and he grabs Axel by the wrist, yanking him over to the stand parked at a rounding of a cul-de-sac. Ventus walks up with Roxas, and sees a small smile tugging at the corners of Roxas' mouth at Demyx's immaturity.

"Still I wonder what caused him to hire such a man." Roxas comments.

"Eh, he may be an idiot, but he does grow on you." Ventus says.

Ventus sees Roxas give a discreet nod of his head as he watches Demyx talk to Axel, all animated and exuberant; Axel, all the while Ventus knows is giving Demyx an annoyed glare. As they wait, the sounds of flutes and plucking of violins catch Ventus' attention. He looks over his shoulder and finds a trio of musicians strolling along the streets. They play their instruments feverishly, bowstrings fluttering like the wings of an iridescent dragonfly. The rhythm they keep is a pacing one-two, one-two-three. At the sound of the music, Ventus' adrenaline spikes and suddenly he's jittery and excited. Briefly he flashes back to the times when he was younger - before joining Axel and his crew - how where he lived, when bards played in the street how a person would start dancing, and then soon nearly half the marketplace would join in.

Jittery and fidgeting, Ventus sets down his bag. Roxas turns away and watches the boy as he approaches then trio and whispers into the ear of one, then a chain-link exchanges from one to the next. Then as Axel and Demyx return with two slices of cheese, a small conversation happening between them, stops when they see Roxas staring ahead. They follow his gaze and sure enough find Ventus dancing on his own, smiling and hopping from one foot to the other. Then he skips over to a young girl with her parents and bends over to take her hands. Her parents encourage her and he pulls and spins with her out to the center of the cul-de-sac.

Then Ventus goes over and grabs the arm of man with a wheat-colored mustache and pulls him in, his friend chuckling behind him. Not stopping, Ventus then goes and grabs the arm of a balding man, who grabs the wrist of his woman friend, who then proceeds to grab the hand of an older gentleman, all being pulled into the circle with by Ventus. Lastly, Ventus wanders over to a single woman, a hair band taming down her crazy brown, curly tresses, and hooks his arm around hers. She smiles gleefully and she follows him to the center.

By now, several people have picked up the tune of the bards and have begun clapping along, raising their hands high and laughing and smiling at the gathering mob; some even tapping their feet.

Ventus leads the people in a circle around a small mosaic designed into a seashell. Apparently the dance is known by all who live in this kingdom as they know the steps near instantly and begin squealing with glee at the clapping beat of onlookers. Dancers turn like dervishes, skirts flaring out. They twirl and glided across the mosaic, linking arms and keeping the chipper rhythm.

"The boy always knew how to start a crowd." Axel smiles.

Roxas looks to him, and then looks back at the crowd Ventus started all on his own. People clapped on the outside, cheering and laughing so blissfully, the dancing seeming to have transformed them. Roxas can't remember the last time something so sill, joyfully and fun has happened in his life.

Ventus twirls out from his partner and motions the other three to come in. Demyx smiles, Axel smirks but holds his arm up declining the offer. Roxas peers over at Demyx who smiles devilishly. Then without warning, Roxas suddenly presses his hand to Axel's back, shoving him into the crowd, forcefully accepting Ventus' invitation. Axel nearly trip over the bags, dropping his slice of cheese. Once he steps inside, a woman instantly takes his hand, and he only has a moment to glare back at Demyx and Roxas. Demyx is doubled over laughing, Roxas, to Demyx's surprise but pleasure, is smiling. An actual smile with teeth and all, shaking his head and arms crossed at the rather goofy dancing.

After about another minute, Demyx readies himself for an opening, and then when a young woman invites him in, Demyx's feet skip to the rhythm and he takes the woman's hand excitingly. Roxas stands off to the side, his paper bag between his ankles, clapping to the beat. He can't help but watch curiously and with a feeling of desperation, what it must feel like to be so, free. All his life it's felt like he's been stuck in a rigid place where nothing should be slouched or loose. Always precise and accurate. Any routine he's practiced, nothing compared to this, it was for when he was undercover in a castle assigned to assassinate a Duke or Noble; and the dancing was required to stop from attracting any unwanted attention.

Here, people sing out of tune and flop themselves around with smile, not caring how stupid or uncontrolled they are, yet still they work in unison to the song. How would it look for the son of a respected and feared assassin to be twirling around to music? Digging through his heart, past the wonder and mocking he boasts towards them, what he really finds, is envy.

"Care to cut in?" Demyx asks. Roxas looks to find him broken away from the crowd and he holds out a hand to Roxas. Roxas looks to the hand as if it holds a poisonous snake. "It's not that bad if you look stupid, Roxas. Cut loose, have fun."

Reluctantly, but with desperation ruling him over, Roxas takes Demyx's hand and he pulls Roxas to him. Demyx spins Roxas in a tight circle, and quickly they exchange to female partners. The world blends into a mesh of chaos, color, and noise.

Roxas is thrown into revolution after revolution, almost swinging into another pair of dancers who scamper aside, laughing. With his instincts to learn quickly rising up, Roxas focuses hard on the beat of the clapping and the one-two steps he memorized by watching. He's swept into another spin. This time Roxas feels himself twirl effortlessly into the movements and gains a new partner as he rotates into the circle. He's picked up the dance. Now it's as if he's known the dance perfectly, even though he's never waltzed in his life.

His feet follow through with the steps, and Roxas soon finds his lips expanding wider. He looks around and finds Ventus in the crowd. He brushes off Ventus' concerns about his ribs, and they link arms, rotating into the next partner. Roxas' ribs do hurt, and if his father's contacts see this, it will be brutal, but the satisfaction and . . . joy he has, reduces other feelings to dust.

Ventus and Roxas spin again at the twiddle of a flute and Ventus laughs with such enthusiasm. Roxas then feels his chest heave and he realizes that he's giggled, which he's done never in his life. With another link of arms, Roxas is spun again, this time with Axel. Roxas was spun so that his back faces Axel and link hands with him, Axel's one hand on his waist as he guides Roxas into a promenade.

Roxas follows, his eyes trailing to the hand that rests on his side, Axel's fingers cupping Roxas' ribs with a touch as light as a butterfly. Dancers churn around them like storm-tossed flowers, their heads held to either side as they whirl with abandonment. Spinning out one last time, Roxas is at the center of the dancing circle, no partner, but with others whose direction he follows. With the tempo infecting his veins, Roxas smiles and laughs and even flutters his eyes shut as he now effortlessly spins himself with the others his feet tapping to the beat.

Then just as he opens his eyes, he reaches out a hand and it's grasped by, to his surprise, Axel and just as they sweep into one another, but song ends with a final clasp of the instruments. The crowd cheers and claps, and Axel and Roxas stare at one another, their eyes locked. The smile on Roxas face makes Axel nearly want to laugh and embrace the boy, but it slowly goes away as he looks around at the crowd slowly diminishing.

Realizing they are near chest to chest, the two release one another and share an awkward laugh.

Axel can't help but smile at how, normal Roxas looks now. Dressed out of his thief/assassin garb, now in a tunic and pants like a normal citizen, and actually smiling, and . . . well, was laughing. Still, when Ventus comes up, Roxas' smile almost returns.

Demyx comes up and throws both arms around both boys. "Man! That was fun! Starting a party as always, Ventus!" he laughs.

Ventus laughs and looks to Roxas. "You look like you had fun." He nudges Roxas.

Roxas rolls his eyes and sighs, but decides to amuse them. "I would be lying if I said it wasn't, enjoyable."

"Yeah!" Demyx pulls both boys tighter in a hug, and Roxas' lips instantly contort back to a snarl while Ventus keeps laughing. Still Roxas doesn't shove him off.

"How about we join the men at the pub and share a few pints?" Demyx cheers.

"Pass." Roxas instantly declines.

"Um . . ." Ventus ponders.

"_You_ can have fun with them; I think I'll wait until later." Axel declines.

"Aww! Come on!" Demyx whines.

Now Roxas removes Demyx's arm and steps back. "I need to get around. I think there's a preserve that allows hunting." Roxas says.

"Wait, where are you going?" Ventus asks suddenly, hit tone emanating worry and desperate curiosity.

"You're going to go, I assume?" Axel asks.

"Unless you're meeting another friend of yours." Ventus says, and Roxas suddenly eyes him daringly.

"Ventus." Demyx whispers.

"Remember, Roxas, we meet back at the inn this time, at twilight. The latest midnight." Axel says.

"Fine, but I need to get a new bow and arrows first. That battle with the mermaids destroyed my other."

"Alright. Will you be okay?" Axel asks. He tries to ignore a possible look from Ventus.

"I'll be fine." Roxas says as he's about to turn away.

"I want to come." Ventus' voice suddenly pipes. Demyx, Axel and Roxas all looks to him with surprised expressions. Ventus takes a half step back, then a full step forward. "That is, if you'll let me join."

Roxas looks at Ventus, his stare scientific and analyzing. His eyes scan Ventus, as if he can see exactly what Ventus is made up of just by staring at him.

Roxas feels that Ventus is the kind of person who says they want to learn, but the moment an animal is shot, he will break down with pity and beg Roxas to bring the animal to a hospital to see if they can save it. Not to mention the so many sounds that is unfamiliar to Ventus. Roxas knows that he will be scared, just as he was his first time alone in the woods back when he was eleven, maybe twelve. The memories themselves long time fading.

His father wanted him to hone his senses and learn how to detect the faintest sound. Something about listening to the silence, Roxas remembers. His father had taken him to a forest region far outside the city. All he gave Roxas was a bow to fit his size, a quiver of twelve arrows and a sizable knife.

"You will wander on your own. You will kill at least three presentable animals." his father ordered.

For a while Roxas hung around the edges of the clearing before working up the courage and stepping into the woods. Any sign of danger, a distant howl, the inexplicable snap of a twig would send Roxas flying back to the edge of the woods. He didn't go more than twenty yards in, keeping the clearing in his sights. Most of the time, Roxas perched up in branches of all trees his small frame can climb and hoped that game would wander by. Since his father asked for presentable game, Roxas ruled out small animals like squirrels and rabbits. After several hours, all Roxas managed to do was kill a young deer. And that took two arrows and thirty minutes of tracking. His father found him, and seemed pleased.

This training kept going until Roxas could bring down a full-grown adult male bear.

It was slow-going at first, but Roxas was determined to please his father. He stole eggs from nests, caught fish in hand-made nets and shot any big game he could for meat and pelts, and gathered plants that he brought to Zexion later to study about their properties and possibly potent powers. Then Roxas soon risked fighting wolves for meat of carcasses, or using them as his kill for the day. If he brought down a pack, his father accepted it.

As he gazes at Ventus, Roxas feels a strong urge to put Ventus through the same kind of training, but not for the same reasons for learning; more like . . . payback? Revenge?

"No." Roxas says, both to Ventus and to himself.

"I'm eager to learn." Ventus quickly defends.

"I can see that. But I want to be alone. Please, and thank you."

Roxas then turns away, leaving no room for Ventus to offer a rebuttal.

Weaving effortlessly through the crowd, Roxas feels something almost like hysteria rising inside him. A feeling similar to when he's being chased and he needs to get away. He walks faster and faster, until he's sprinting. Pumping his arms, Roxas runs down the middle of the street. People stare at him and sweat materializes on his forehead. He spots a carriage with two brown horses clopping their hooves. The driver notices Roxas and desperately motions Roxas to move, but Roxas only stares at him dead on. Roxas gains speed and then leaps up, pushing off his feet. He flips, spooking the horses. Air rushes over his body and twirls around his fingers. He lands on the hood of the carriage itself and immediately rolls across and down back onto the road. Without stopping, he pushes up and continues running at his full speed. Citizens gaze at him. He feels more like himself now. That is all that he needs: to remember who he is.

He makes it back to the ship and instantly runs over the bridge and barges into the captain's cabin. He spots his cloak still draped over the back of the chair. Roxas, heaving heavy breaths, grabs the cloak and wraps it around him, clasping it about his neck. Roxas sighs and presses against the wall next to the door. Still catching his breath, Roxas slides down to the floor; wincing as pain darts through his sore body.

Feeling for his dagger, Roxas grasps it with shaking fingers and holds his hand up to his chest, flattening the hilt against his hammering heart. He pictures his father, his home, his guild, and a painful feeling of longing stabs Roxas in his heart. His eyes moisten, and he suddenly feels like a child, and wants to go home.

He misses his father, he can't deny that. And yet, Roxas feels, overwhelmed.

Going home would mean leaving behind his experience, and going back to the rigid outline of his father's expectations. What is he thinking? Inheriting the guild is his destiny. The power he will wield will be immeasurable, and yet, Roxas can't stop thinking about living a life of other people.

What is wrong with him? Just a week ago he murdered the daughter of the King's most respected sorcerer. And now he's reluctant to going home?

The crew. Axel and Ventus. They're making him soft; and his father will never accept a soft heir. Roxas can just see all his years of training suddenly wasted within the matter of a few days.

No, he can't let this happen. He can't let his father's dream heir be in vain. He can't afford it.

Roxas clutches his dagger tighter. No more goofing off.

He can't get close to the men. He won't. He will preserve his father's years of hard work. Roxas can hear his father's voice, remembers his teaching of using men and women as toys in his own nefarious purposes. And Roxas takes a deep breath. Opening his eyes, Roxas pushes himself to stand, aggressively digs through Axels trunks, making sure to leave a mess around the floor and pulls forth another bow and a quiver of ebony arrows.

Leaving the ship, his cape and weapons all at his hands, Roxas pulls his hood up over his head and feels like a guild member again.

This time he walks normally on the sidewalk, keeping his head low as he passes by people. With the emblem of his guild now on his back, Roxas walks with more determined steps. He's passing by a jewelry store, momentarily stopping to observe a bejeweled mask. In the reflection of the glass, he sees a woman pass by him, her head tilting as if to observe Roxas.

Then there's a huge crash in the alley next to the store. Roxas' hand goes to the hilt of his dagger in reflex. He carefully steps around the corner and peers around. A trio of metal trashcans seems to have been toppled over. One of the metal lids has fallen off and spilling its entrails onto the grimy road. Roxas takes a careful step in, hoping to find another cat or dog.

The bottom of Roxas' spin tingles. A strip of black cloth covers Roxas' eyes and a pair of hands ties it at the back of his head.

Roxas goes for his dagger and immediately whirls around to stab a man in the neck, but a meaty hand grabs his wrist. Then someone grabs Roxas from behind. A hand claps over Roxas' mouth. It smells like dried blood and moistened dirt and it's so big that it covers the lower half of Roxas' face. Roxas immediately bites down, his teeth breaking skin so that he tastes blood.

"Ow!" a rough voice cries.

Roxas brings his heel up and rams it between the legs of the person holding him from behind. The man stops a squeaking scream as it starts, and Roxas wrenches one wrist free, then whipping himself up, wraps his legs around the man's neck and hurls him down. Quickly Roxas windmills up and flips back, drawing his daggers.

All the while the cloth is still around his eyes.

"You're father trained you well, Roxas." says another male voice.

Roxas freezes, then relaxes, but keeps his daggers in hand.

"We apologize for startling you." This voice is higher than the average male's, clearer.

Roxas can't help it: he laughs. "You'll need more than an apology." He growls. "Why such desperate measures Xemnas?"

"Anonymity is integral to our operation." says Xemnas in reply.

Roxas snarls and yanks the cloth off his eyes. Quickly blinking his eyes, he focuses on the man with long hair, reaching to about mid-back, silver in color, and some of it falls over his shoulders. His orange eyes stare at Roxas, in his hand a sword with a long curved blade; the steel stained with dried blood.

Xemnas is the leader of the Hawk Guild in Atlantica. With them being the only guild in the entire city, their reign is feared.

"Hawks fly high. But they still need the Shadows to cover them when on the hunt." Roxas reminds.

"You'd be wise to watch your tongue boy. The last thing a fly ought to do in the spider's web is wiggle." Xemnas reminds.

"Well that's counter-intuitive." Roxas says.

Even if Roxas is in their town, Cloud is his father, and all guilds fear his father for his own rule stretches farther than the seas.

"What's the word?" Roxas asks.

"You tell us." Xemnas counters, Roxas now seeing two of his lackey men behind him. "Your father's the one who sent out the message. Wanted everyone to keep an eye-out for you. Just say the word and we can get you home."

Roxas ponders over this, sheathing his daggers. His eyebrows knit together. "I have everything under control. I've managed to strike a deal with the Captain, and we will be returning to the Twilight Kingdom within a matter of days. I falsely promised them a rich boon for my safe return, or a viscous death should they not. Greed is a man's worse enemy."

"Just one word and we can have the Captain dead." Xemnas says as he spins his sword.

"No. Not yet. I kill him once I lure him to out guild's main meeting spot. I need him to take me back. Much like the guild, the men are loyal to a fault. They will most likely mislead any of us no matter how much of their kin blood we spill."

"They're just a bunch of sea-soaked sailors who spend their pay at the whore house." Xemnas disagrees.

"And what's your excuse, Xemnas. As I recall, your men seem to enjoy a good howl in the night at the brothels. They can be quite loud for covert agents." Roxas blackmails.

Xemnas snarls and clamps his lips shut.

"Leave the men be, and I will inform you of when we are leaving." Roxas says. "But don't kill any of them. We shall save them for my father and the Guild. And make them pay for their stupid mistakes."

Roxas feels his words burn his throat, or maybe it's the anger he's trying to fight. Why does he feel so guilty doing all this behind Axel's back? Roxas shakes his head.

"Gahh, these men are driving me crazy." He admits. "I can't wait until we get back home. Send the word to my father. I'm fine, I'm alive and I'm managing."

"As you command, Master Roxas. When shall I send word out to your father?" Xemnas asks with a bow of his head.

"Immediately after we leave."

"And can I take that to mean . . ." Xemnas purses his lips and pauses for a few seconds before finishing. ". . . that you agree to letting your father kill the Captain once he is captured?"

Roxas' heart skips a beat.

He smiles.

"Wholeheartedly." He says.


	16. Chapter 15

Roxas clasps the bow in his hands and leans back against the trunk of the oak tree. His muscles are clenched tight against the cold breeze that comes up from the ocean. Perched up high in a gathering of branches connecting the oak to a weeping willow, Roxas brings his knees up and rests his cheek against the upper limb of the bow. He should climb down, move around and work the stiffness from his limbs. But instead, Roxas sits as motionless as the branches beneath him while the sun beats down on him, warming his skin and creating patches of shadows from the leaves on his cheeks.

He's been in the woods located on the outskirts of Atlantica for nearly three hours since he dispatched from Axel and the crew. He managed to shoot down a male deer that stumbled down by a river bend where Roxas was just shooting salmon swimming upstream for migration. It now dangles from another branch up higher near Roxas' head. Its entrails are at the base of the trunk, its blood streaming down the bark of the trunk to the forest ground. An occasional bear or coyote would come to investigate, but neither had the gall to climb.

When Roxas entered the forest, he had gone nearly forty yards in, when he screamed. So loud and so fierce, it pierced the air with its fury. Nearly three flocks of birds scattered and by the time he was done, Roxas' voice was nearly gone. It did little to subdue the overwhelming emotions bubbling inside him like a thick soup inside a cauldron.

With only half his voice back, Roxas often drinks water from his canteen and gargles and clear his throat. Still it does little and his voice still sounds raspy. Roxas must've fallen asleep because his shoulder was throbbing by the time he had gotten to the near top of the tree, and now it's calm and Roxas feels rather, rejuvenated.

After talking with Xemnas and about giving word to his father on Roxas' progress, he hopes it'll hold his father over for a little while. Roxas, like he has since entering the woods, replays the conversation in his head. He practically handed his father Axel and his crew's heads once they enter the Twilight Kingdom. And despite Roxas wanting nothing more than to go home, now it would seem that he will be leading them to their deaths. And no matter how many times Roxas orders himself to not think about it, it pains him to contemplate of the betrayal he will present. Fear flares through his insides, like dry tinder catching fire. But why does he care? Starting out with the crew, it was like pulling teeth to get Roxas to cooperate, and then Axel going on with letting him roam free when entering the cities, and how he treated Roxas like he was strong ever after seeing him in such a pathetic state brought on by the mermaid venom; of which he's long since removed the bandage covering the bite mark on his neck, practically ripping it off the moment he was for certain he was in solitude.

How could this have happened? All this time Roxas thought he wasn't letting the men get close to him, trying not to put even the slightest amount of trust into them, but then the mermaid fight happened, and Roxas just, caved. Is that even the proper word to use? It would make sense that Roxas only opens up slightly since the men have all practically seen him in his weakest state, Axel especially. And yet they still treat him with respect.

It's like there's a war going on inside of him, and Roxas is in no man's land.

And what about the boon? Why hadn't Roxas convinced Xemnas to talk to his father about rewarding them? _Because I wasn't thinking_, Roxas answers. And it is the truth; Axel did save his life, he didn't have to, even if it was for his own reasons, Axel still saved Roxas and nursed him.

Roxas is torn between slapping himself for selling Axel out or for letting his guard down when he thought he was trying not to get close to the men. Or well, close to a portion of the men. Roxas would be lying to himself if he said he didn't like Ventus or Demyx. Finally Roxas decides to cut the ropes holding the deer. Sighing, Roxas forces himself to climb down, nearly slipping because of the numbness in his limbs. All his joints complain when he reaches the forest floor and his right leg has been asleep for so long that it takes several minutes of pacing to bring the feeling back into it.

Hauling the deer onto his back, Roxas carries it through the forest, its hind legs dragging across the ground. Roxas ignores the looks of people as they watch him walk down the streets. He looks back and forth and finds a butcher's store, bringing the deer around to the back. Roxas kicks the door harshly until a man who works there opens it with angry eyes. But the moment he sees the deer, they change to surprise.

"I want to make a deal." Roxas demands. His tone so authoritative that the butcher doesn't question his age.

After trading the deer for all the coin the butcher had, Roxas keeps the coin purse tucked away in a pocket of his trousers. He watches and looks around keeping an eye for any of the crew members. He sidesteps a group of children as they run down the sidewalk, dodging feet and yelling, "I touched you! You're _it_!" "No, that was my sleeve!"

As they run on, a woman laughing as she carries a bag of groceries, Roxas can't help but envy even the children. Running wild and free, they laugh and tag one another. Digging through his memories, the closest Roxas had to something similar to the game was when he was running from his tutors in training, practicing in losing guards when spotted on a mission. Here the children play for sport, and when one gets tagged they're still alive and receive no repercussion for failure to elude whoever is '_it_'.

_Stop it_, Roxas orders himself. _It's made you stronger, better, faster_._ You should be appreciative_. Shaking his head, Roxas continues on and searches for the inn Axel mentioned, though he's really trying to find something to do since sitting around drives him crazy.

Gazing at all the stores, Roxas is about to decide to look for some ammunition for his guns – of which he still barely uses – when a hand taps his shoulder. Roxas rudely shrugs it off and whirls to glare at Marluxia.

"Relax," he says. "My, seems that anything makes you jump."

"It's not jumping, it's being ready for anything." Roxas rephrases as he takes a step back.

Marluxia smiles though seemingly unbothered. He folds his arm and grins. "Well, I'm glad I ran into you."

"Frankly I'm surprised to see you out of the brothels. You act like a nocturnal creature, afraid of the sunlight." Roxas says.

"So says the boy who sticks to the shadows." Marluxia counters.

"Is there anything you want or are you just trying to annoy me." Roxas says.

"Actually, there is. But I suggest we go somewhere more, private." Marluxia says.

Roxas glares at him, but accepts Marluxia's gesture forward. They walk side by side, neither of them saying much, but Roxas can't help but feel disturbed at Marluxia's smile. They enter the inn that feels like it comes up within seconds after they walk.

They have to walk through a pub area in order to get to the rooms. A chandelier adds to the lanterns stamped along the walls, giving the room more illumination. Roxas looks all around and finds Demyx first thing since he's the one aiding a husky woman in a tavern song, piping away at a flute while the men cheer and raises their glasses to her song.

"_She takes the trooper by the hand, and leads him to her chambers. She's given him some wine to drink and his love it flared like tinder! Bonnie lassy will you gang with me. Bonnie lass will ye lie near me. I'll get all your ribbons real and the morning bear lie me_!"

Can't these men go a day without mead? Roxas thinks as he pulls down his hood.

"Roxas." Marluxia calls.

Roxas looks to find Marluxia standing at the front of a long hallway of doors, supposedly leading to one of his rooms. Roxas follows Marluxia, taking the lead as Marluxia follows behind him. If it weren't for Lexaeus, Roxas would feel on edge with Marluxia's shadows cast over him, but seeing as how Marluxia is twice as small as Lexaeus, Roxas simply waits for his signal to notify they've reached his room.

Axel is in cheers with the men of the pub, Ventus having gone off up to his room. He cheers his mug with a man he only met that night. There's something about the atmosphere of a pub that makes someone feel at home. Surrounded by other men, cheering, laughing and exchanging fun talk, you seem to temporarily obtain new friends up until the dawn brings on pounding headaches and retching of ale.

The man wraps his arm around Axel's shoulder and they clank their drinks and tilt it past their lips. Demyx plays a fast paced flute tune while a wench sings a tavern song. Axel has just finished a swig of the pub's house special - mead mixed with juniper berries making it taste sweet, yet sour – when his eyes drifted across the tavern and he spotted Marluxia walking along the side outside the gathering of men. It would have been nothing out of the ordinary, if it weren't for the flash of blonde he saw behind him.

Axel freezes and stops just as he's about to take another sip. He watches again, making sure it isn't a trick of the light or just a mistaken wave of a man's arm. No. It happens again, this time his head exposed as he pulls down his hood. Roxas is following Marluxia, down to the halls?! What on earth for?! Axel's stomach twinges as he watches as Roxas stops and gazes out around the pub. He seems to stop at Demyx as he does a twiddle of notes on his flute. Then his head turns and he walks up to Marluxia as he holds out his arm as a gesture to follow. Roxas passes him and Marluxia follows. Axel feels his body go rigid. He slams his cup down on the counter and gets up from his seat, anger boiling.

Roxas and Marluxia come to the near end of the hallway and Marluxia opens the door for Roxas. Roxas nods and enters the room. Striking a flint, he lights the wall lanterns and casts the room in a warm buttery glow. It's a box of a room, ten by ten feet with no windows, a bed along one side, and a small table set with two wooden chairs.

"Sit." Marluxia says as he takes one of the chairs.

"No."

"_Sit_." He says again.

Roxas remains standing, half urging to cross his arms and assert his dominance, but keeps them at his side and stares boldly at Marluxia. Marluxia blinks then leans back comfortably in his seat.

"Suit yourself. Now, I wish to talk to you about your guild." Marluxia says.

"Well that was unexpected." Roxas says biting back his shock. "Be careful on what you say, Marluxia. The walls have ears."

"I understand." He retorts. "But the proposition I have may benefit us both."

"What could you possibly offer me?" Roxas tries to soften his voice, but it doesn't work.

"It's actually what I'm offering you." Marluxia phrases. "If you'll let me, I wish to extend my services to you and your father's Guild."

Roxas sets his hands on the back of the chair he refuses to sit in, his mouth pinching, his eyebrows forming a frown for a second. "What could you possibly want to do with the guild? Let alone how could you be of any use?"

"It's simply a matter of trade. You clearly hold more advanced skills than that of a seaman, and for so long I've dreamed of having the riches you possess. I thought I could obtain it with being a seaman, but it's brought so little desirable results."

"You sure it's not just your stupidly at spending it at the brothels?" Roxas says.

Marluxia looks at him, narrowing his eyebrows; but Roxas is nowhere near afraid of Marluxia. And they both know that for Marluxia to even be considered into the Guild, he has to be on Roxas' good side. Otherwise, his name will be mud, and not even the lowest ranked guilds will consider hiring him.

"I will admit it's not my, wisest way to spend a hard earned pay." Marluxia weaves, and Roxas coldly snickers. "But that is because I had hopes that my choice of sea life would bring me more coin. And for years I've been disappointed."

Roxas gazes at Marluxia. He certainly possesses that of an assassin nature. He's conniving, manipulative, and has a deadly seductive nature about him, Roxas will admit that. But it's also these attributes that make him untrusting, easily swayed, and unfaithful. Unloyal.

"Well, I can promise you one thing; that even if you were to miraculously make it into a guild, of _any_ kind with your 'skill'," Roxas says, making sure to take Marluxia down a few pegs and set him straight. "Though my opinion counts for half of it, you can't automatically join _my_ guild. We have a ranking system in which we start you out in the lowest guild in our city, and then you have to work your way up. Prove to us that you're worth keeping."

Marluxia nods with his hands folded in front of him like a school student striving to be the teacher's pet.

"And don't think that you can sway me by being nice to me or waiting on me hand and foot. That bullshit will get you nowhere, and won't do anything but prove on how low you're willing to become. We need men of reputation. And don't expect to be cuddled. You learn through trial and error, pain and suffering." Roxas continues.

"I understand."

"Do you?" Roxas counters. "My father warned me of this when I was going to be initiated. And it's a dark life, but it'll be your choice."

"Then I will start by being honest. I want coin, power and women; maybe a man." Marluxia flicks the corner of his mouth; still he earns no reaction from Roxas.

"It will be given to you, if you make it. All you have to do it show your potential, wherever we go." says Roxas.

"I thought your family lived in Twilight Kingdom." Marluxia reminds.

"We have connections; everywhere." Roxas counters. "Walls have ears, Marluxia. There are whispers in the shadows, and eyes are all around you."

"Then what is your answer?" Marluxia asks.

Roxas looks to him, leaning on one hand gripping the back of the chair he puts the other on his hip and stares. "I'll consider it. I, as well as 'the others' will be watching you. Prove your worth, and when we get back home. I'll be sure to inform my father with what I see. The rest will be up to him."

Marluxia nods, seemingly accepting the answer Roxas has given. "Very well."

"I believe we're done here." Roxas says as he turns.

"But just curious," Marluxia says, Roxas stopping short of taking a step away from the chair and clenches his fist, sighing in annoyance. "Are you sure there is nothing that can sway, such a young and, skilled boy such as you?"

Caught off guard and feeling the sense of, seduction he's trying to impose, Roxas turns around to repeat to Marluxia what he said about his manipulative bullshit, when he finds the man standing over him. Roxas holds his ground, even staring back at Marluxia with a look of amusement.

"Just know I'm willing to please you in any way, if you'll have me." Marluxia whispers, leaning down, the sensation of his breath against Roxas' cheek nearly causes his eyes to flutter shut. Roxas feels Marluxia' knuckles brush against his jaw.

Then suddenly the door to Marluxia's room bursts open. Both look to find Axel standing in the orange-yellow light of the hallway, his hands in fists, he squints at them through the doorway like some great ogre, his arms folded, his face grim.

"Ahoy, Captain." Marluxia smoothly says, almost amused at the sight of the angered Captain. Roxas stares at Axel with a placid face as he was with Marluxia, he doesn't step away from Marluxia, looking at Axel almost as if there is nothing wrong nor, misinforming about their current positions.

Axel's eyes flick from Marluxia to Roxas and he seems to relax only slightly. "Roxas," he says turning his head to the blond. "Your room is actually across the hall." Axel says.

It's obvious that he's irritated and even with that he still tries not to play it up. Roxas knows how it will all play out; Axel will have his words with Marluxia later, though Roxas sees no reason why he has to. Roxas clearly has made it his goal that he won't get closer to any of the ship members, unless he heard Marluxia's wanting to transfer over.

"Of course." Roxas says. He turns and leaves without looking back at Marluxia, or even looking at Axel as he leaves the room.

He can practically feel the electric currents of anger that emanates off of Axel. Roxas expects him to enter Marluxia's room, slamming the door behind him but Roxas hears Axel's footsteps follow him into the room across the hall. The same exact, everything except this one has a chest at the foot of the bed for belongings. Roxas assumes Axel knows of Marluxia wanting to join his guild, and wants to have a few words with Roxas.

Roxas turns to find Axel, shutting the door behind him and sighs. He turns to Roxas, clearly struggling to control his anger. Roxas simply leans his back against the wall so his profile faces Axel.

"What was that all about?" he asks.

Roxas has to remember that he could be upset for a number of reasons and shouldn't be quick to defend or sell out Marluxia just yet. He's never seen Axel angry before, but if he had to guess, it's probably like lair-of-the-dragon-king, complete with fire breathing and fuming eyes.

"I don't see how that's your business. What is your problem anyway?" Roxas seethes. He turns his head to face Axel, his arms crossed and foot resting against the wall.

"I'm trying to find out if my crewman is trying to screw you over, that's my problem!" Axel rails.

The words are loud enough that they drown out the disembodied cheers and laughter of the pub. They take over the air for a moment then the sounds slowly start to come back to life. Despite what it might enrage in Axel, Roxas laughs as it's completely unrelated to what he thought Axel was assuming.

"How could such a foolish thought come to your head?!" Roxas counters. "I can take care of myself, and he won't try anything with me. I can grantee you that."

"How?!" Axel eggs on. "How could you possibly know Marluxia better than me?!"

"Because I can figure people out, Axel." Roxas answers. "I don't even see what the big deal is. We were just talking."

"Did you not see how he was looking at you, Roxas? He looked like he was ready to chain you to the wall and mark your skin!"

"Yes, Axel, I did see him! _And_ I spoke with him. He was very well-mannered, and even if you hadn't blown through the roof, nothing would have happened. Or do I need to kill more men before you realize I'm not some helpless little boy?!"

Roxas couldn't believe that Axel was overreacting to nothing. He was blowing a fume because Roxas was talking with his crewmen? It's clear he doesn't know about their conversation, and maybe that's what's making him upset, still Roxas refuses to budge.

"You just can't handle the fact that I'm better than you, can you?" Roxas growls, but he grins in amusement.

"No," says Axel starting to shout. "what I can't handle is you becoming the next potential victim of Marluxia and his horny cock that can't seem to stay in his pants!"

"Oh, please! I'm no child, Axel!" Roxas shouts. Pushing off the wall, Roxas goes for the door at a run. He is not going to stand there and be questioned like a five-year-old. He slips out into the hall and makes his way to the pub area.

"Roxas! I'm not done yet!" Axel yells.

"Too bad," Roxas shouts, continuing on barely looking over his shoulder. "Because I am!"

"I said get back here, Roxas!"

In answer, Roxas turns around and holds up both his hands, showing Axel his middle fingers. Axel peruses the boy, shoving his way through the crowd as a shortcut to the door. Roxas sees this and increases speed. He reaches the door and pushes through harshly into the summer night. The smell of the sea and something perfumery infects the air.

Not long after, Roxas hears the door open again and doesn't look back. Outside, Axel seems to lower his voice as it's not covered up by the roar of drunken men.

"Roxas." He calls, his voice lower in tone as if to get this attention rather than shouting to him in anger.

"Fuck off." Roxas warns.

Still, Axel marches towards Roxas and wrenches Roxas to face him. "Roxas!"

Something within Roxas snaps. Heat races through his body, driving the control out of him, and Roxas smacks Axel so hard his knuckles burn with the impact. Axel stares at him, one side of his face bright with blush-blood, and Roxas stares back.

"Shut up." Roxas says. He yanks his arm from his grasp. "I don't know what's going on in your hollow, sea-washed head, but I don't need you to interrogate or babysit me, Axel! I . . . can take care . . . of _myself_! I'm not like him! I'm not like _Ventus_!"

His words create a harsher slap than his hand, and Axel feels his heart sink and his body grows numb. He stares at Roxas fiery blue eyes, burning with an icy flame of defiance and resentment. Axel tries to swallow, but it feels like there's a lump in his throat.

"I . . ." his breath catches in his throat. "I didn't -"

"Didn't what?! What, Axel?! This is pathetic! I don't get why you're so upset! But you know what really hurts; the fact that you would seriously think I would stoop to such a level." Roxas stabs. "I'm not some low-class whore!"

"I know." Axel says, his own voice scraping against his throat like gravel. And suddenly it seems like he's lost all reason for perusing Roxas, or for even getting mad at his being in the same room as Marluxia. Roxas isn't Ventus. _Roxas isn't Ventus_.

"Then what?!" Roxas now demands. "What is it?!"

Axel opens his mouth to speak, but it only flaps before closing. "I don't know." Axel finally admits sighing.

Roxas scoffs in infuriation. He shakes his head and he turns away, continuing on in his impulsive direction. "What a waste."

Axel watches until Roxas' silhouette has sunk beneath the rise of a hill on the road. He turns and leans against the brick exterior of an apartment house, his skin seeming to hum where Roxas slapped him. Axel raises his hand and gingerly touches his cheek, still it sends a prickle of pain like pins and needles through the bones of his face and he winces.

Lowering his head and exhaling heavily, Axel braces his hands to his knees. He runs his fingers through his hair and feels his eyes sting with warm tears. None fall on his cheeks, but Axel wishes they would in an attempt to cool his heated face.

He'll have to go after him. Try his best to apologize.

But for now, he stays glued to the bricks of the house, staring blankly at the pavement in wonder of why he had become so protective of the boy.

Though he doesn't dig deep, fearing that the answer was closer to the surface than he expects.


	17. Chapter 16

Roxas pushes through the door of the seamstress shop which still surprisingly is open at nine o'clock at night. He finds Olette still behind the counter, immersed in a large tome of a book with the cover peeling at the corners and the paper a soft brownish-yellow. She looks up at the sound of the door opening and smiles. Roxas barely returns the gesture.

"Good. You're back." She says.

"My apologies it's so late." Roxas says as he approaches.

"Oh don't worry about it." Olette assures. "I made sure to mention to my manager to keep it open since I assumed you'd be back. I actually needed the time to repair your clothes."

"And they are finished, I assume then." Roxas says leaning on the counter.

"Yes, let me just fetch them for you."

Roxas nods as Olette retrieves the clothes. When she brings them back out, Roxas is surprised to see their condition. All the rips seem like they never existed. The cloth looks brand new, to the point where Roxas thinks she might've disposed of his old clothes. But no, they are his clothes, only any trace of their experience is gone. All the stains and rips are bleached and sewed. His boots are the same color and design as always, but the scuffs and creases are gone as if they never were. Needless to say Roxas was impressed to see such craftsmanship bestowed upon the hands of a commoner.

"Impressive, I will admit." Roxas says.

"Thank you." Olette smiles. "So that is everything, I also do have some fitted rooms for you if you wish to change into them now."

"No. I'll just take them now but thank you for your offer." Roxas says. With that he pulls out a sizable coin purse and sets it on the counter. He gathers his clothes in his arms and sets to leave the store. "You may keep the change."

Quickly with nimble fingers, Roxas snatches a bag from the near front of the store. It's made of leather and fits the size to hold small game such as rabbits and squirrels, maybe even a full grown turkey. He swipes it up and leaves the store, eluding Olette of the theft. Stuffing his clothes into the sack unceremoniously, Roxas slings it over his back and bursts into a sprint down the sidewalk and towards the preserve.

Not looking back, he rushes through the gap in the wall and into the trees beyond. Out of the sight of people, Roxas begins to work his way out of his clothes. Still running, he swoops the pack to one arm and uses his other to pull up the grey tunic, then exchanging hands to pull his hands out from the sleeves. Throwing to the ground, Roxas makes sure he runs it over before continuing on. The night breeze and ocean front cools his torso pumping with blood and materializing sweat. Slinging the pack back, he fits it smoothly against his spin as he fumbles with his borrowed trousers. Roxas really has no right to ruin Ventus' pants, but he doesn't care what his reaction will be. Being acquainted with Axel is all he needs to throw the pants to the ground, unintentionally atop a mud puddle and stomp his foot into the ground. The mud is spongy and sloshes under his feet, sucking off his shoes and the sock on his left foot.

Now in nothing but his undergarments, Roxas starts to slow his running. Looking back, the dim window lights of the town look like fireflies. He can only assume the distance he traveled in what feels like minutes. Slowing his running even more to a jog, Roxas keeps his gaze forward and mind blank. It seems to distract from the repetitive motions as he continues on to his mystery destination. The trail winds left and right and Roxas slows to a walk. When Roxas breaks through some foliage to the edge of the sea, he sets down the sack and without thinking, drops to his knees and scoops up some water and splashes his face. Then he remembers that he hasn't really, bathed since he left his home. The thought branded in his mind, it's as if his body feels filthier than it is, and Roxas rises up and begins to walk into the water. It reaches up to his waist before he dives in, plunging below the surface.

Unlike before, this water is cool as if blessed by the pale moonlight and Roxas swims to the bottom where he feels the spongy ground beneath his hands. He opens his eyes and looks left and right, seeing no signs of any predators. Turning on his back, he gazes at the surface. The rippling reflection of the moon giving him and overwhelming sense of calm. Night in the forests are tranquil. Quiet.

Roxas can't help but think back to the battle with the mermaids, his wound now tickling as the water shifts and sways. He closes his eyes and relaxes, once again feeling the water cradle him. Roxas assumed he himself would gain a fear of water since the battle, but no such trauma occurred, in fact, Roxas soon feels his back softly bounce against the sandy ground of the sea. He pretends he's in his own cocoon, warm and snuggled, he doesn't want to leave. But the feeling is short lived when he needs to surface for air.

As he rises past the surface, Roxas sighs and smoothes his hair back out of his face. The water comes up to his neck now, and he looks all around at the nothingness. Privacy is something Roxas found he could rarely obtain. Now alone with seemingly no eyes, Roxas raises his body and floats atop, the moonlight warming his wet torso. How long he floats, Roxas easily loses track once the water pools into his ears, dulling all sounds of the outside, except for the water itself.

When he feels his body is clean enough, Roxas slowly rises and begins walking back to shore. His clothes thankfully untouched by some wanderer, he wrenches out his undergarments, now wishing he had saved the rented clothes to use to dry himself. Still, Roxas does what he can and pulls on his uniform piece by piece. First the black long-sleeve tunic, then the light mail amour to provide extra protection over his vital organs, his black fitted pants and leather boots. Adjusting his weapons, everything fits snuggly and not so loose. Finally, he snaps his tattered cloak around his shoulders.

Roxas can't help but sigh, nor prevent the smile that comes on his face. Now he truly feels like himself once more. Back in guild armor, it's as if all the problems and sudden feelings of connection vanish, and he feels one with his father and guild again. Still, Roxas has to rely on Axel and his men if he wants to get back home. The deal is still, unsorted at the most since realistically speaking, Axel does deserve an award for saving him, and yet Roxas has sold Axel's head to his father.

Deciding the bag would be better to keep, Roxas slings it back against his spine, fitting it smoothly over his bow and sheath of arrows. Still able to see the small pinpricks of light in the distance, Roxas wanders back into the woods and lazily saunters around. It's been a good five minutes before Roxas spots a tree to sit in though he has no intention at hunting tonight.

He shimmies up the trunk and settles on the largest branch that can bear his as well as the weight of his weapons. It's not that high up, in fact it's not more than four feet off the ground. Roxas sits with his back pressed to the trunk and his legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles. He keeps his one dagger in hand as he allows himself to drift off into a sleep, still his sense getting tingle of noise such as crickets and the vibration of his tree when a bird might land.

It's no more than a minute when a caw jolts Roxas. He looks up and finds Charlie sitting on the branch above him. Roxas can't help but snicker as the raven cocks its head to one side to stare one emerald eye at him.

With a flutter of feathers, Charlie descends and lands on the one knee Roxas bends for him to perch. Roxas scratches at the raven's neck feather and Charlie turns his head, enjoying the attention. When Roxas stops, Charlie's feather fluff up and he shakes himself out, still a puffball of black. Roxas laughs as they settle down and Charlie whips his head back and starts to preen his feathers.

A snap of a twig catches both their attention. Charlie looks up and turns, lowering his head and raising his wings as if poised ready to arrack. Roxas simply looks on ahead into the shadows, seeing nothing nor feeling threatened. Out here, he can easily kill a man and have it be blamed on a pack of wild dogs. So he turns his attention back t Charlie who seems to relax at the sight of Roxas not seeming so alarmed. It's not until a soft voice breaks through does Charlie startles, in turn making Roxas flinch.

"It's a lonely night." Axel's voice says.

Just the sound of Axel's voice brings back all of Roxas' anger and his tranquility vanishes like ash into the wind. "It's the best kind."

"I thought I'd find you here." Axel says.

He internally groans and rolls his eyes and doesn't respond. Charlie caws and flaps up off of Roxas knee and further down the branch. Roxas doesn't budge, but only tilts his head to see Axel leaning against the trunk and stares coldly. Axel gives a small, tentative smile back, seemingly unbothered.

"Don't look so surprised. I was actually a good tracking hunter back in my days." Axel continues crossing his arms.

Roxas returns his gaze forward, keeping his silent treatment to the redhead. Though now his hair seems to have dulled in color due to the shadows of the leaves.

"Though we both know the answer, I'll ask anyway." Roxas bitterly says. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk." Axel answers.

"There's nothing left to say."

"Maybe for you, but not for me. Now, could you come down?"

"No."

Axel sighs and rubs his fingers through his hair. He can't help but gaze at the boy as he is a blob of blackness. With the shadows and silhouette of the night, he seems like nothing more than a trick of the eye. He can't' help but have the feeling that Roxas left his clothes in the woods, left for dirt and bugs.

With a deep exhale, Axel claps his hands together. "Well, if you're not coming down, I'm going up."

"You can't climb trees." Roxas states as a fact.

"Says who?"

Roxas tilts his head and sees Axel readying himself to climb up the trunk.

"What are you doing?" Roxas asks. He finally shifts positions, to sitting on the branch, his legs dangling over the side.

"I'm coming to talk to you." Axel replies.

"You're going to hurt yourself." Roxas says. He looks to Axel's hand and still sees it bandaged from when he shot a dagger at Axel's hand the first day on the ship.

Roxas would have told him to stop, but seeing the respected captain looking extremely goofy trying to climb up the trunk, Roxas can't help but watch for his own personal enjoyment.

"I wouldn't put my foot there." Roxas says just as Axel places his foot on a small branch. Axel's foot slips and he grabs the trunk with clawed fingers. Axel goes for another branch. "Or there." Roxas says and Axel's foot slips again.

"You're distracting me." Axel says as he tries to pull himself up.

"Why are you even out here? How do you know I even want to speak with you?" Roxas snaps. "Usually when people flee into the woods it's because they want to be _alone_."

After slipping for the fifth time, Axel groans. "Okay, I'm just going to block you out because I need to focus on this."

Roxas looks to Charlie who only caws and twitches his wing feathers. Roxas shakes his head and leaps off his branch and landing square on his feet to the forest floor.

"Aw no! Come on, I'm almost there!" Axel whines, short of breath.

Roxas turns to find Axel no more than a foot up off the ground, his one foot resting on a thing branch. Roxas can't help but laugh at how stupid he looks, mimicking a fly splattered on the wall.

"Does the air seem a bit thin to you up here?" Axel asks as he heaves.

Shaking his head, though a smile on his lips, Roxas watches as Charlie flies up to Axel hovering around his head. Axel doesn't risk whacking him away as he caws.

"Shoo! Shoo! Go away! I need to concentrate." Axel says as he tries to blow air at Charlie. Still Charlie continues to caw until finally he pokes at one of Axel's hand. "No! No!" Axel says until one harsher peck makes him retract and he loses grip.

Axel prepares for the worst when he feels a pair of hands grab his underarms and steady him. The fall only lasted a second and the hands release even faster, causing Axel to stumble and trip onto his back.

Roxas stands over him, looking at him with the face of a mannequin. Axel's about to get up when he feels compression on his stomach then chest, and the raven is hopping on him, looking at him with its narrow face. It looks head on and not turning its head to one side. Axel flinches and shoos the bird causing it to caw and flutter up onto Roxas' shoulder.

Axel hoists himself to his feet and dusts off the dirt on his clothes. "Friend of yours?"

"Friends are dangerous, or at least human friends. He's probably the only one I can trust, apart from my father." Roxas replies.

Axel would've made a comment about how Roxas can trust him, but realizes he doesn't have the leg to stand on to back it up. As Axel stands, he watches Roxas as he takes the bird on his hand and feeds it a small handful of sunflower seeds. The bird pecks at Roxas hand, then ruffles its feathers and flies back off into the dark silhouettes of the trees.

"Well, now we're alone. So what do you want?" Roxas bitterly asks as he turns and readies to walk back.

Axel doesn't stop him, asking if they can wait to walk back, but feel like he doesn't hold the right to tell Roxas what to do after their bitter argument. So he refrains from trying to sound authoritative around Roxas until he's smoothed the ground. He jogs to catch up to Roxas and they start walking together. Though they've never explored the forest before, Roxas seems to know the route like he's explored it since he was a babe. Wirth his hood covering his head, only the bits of blonde hair and his sapphire eyes glimmer in the glint.

"So listen," Axel starts, rubbing the back of his head. "I wanted to say I'm sorry; about yelling at you earlier. And more importantly for comparing you to Ventus. You're not like him, I known that. And he is not you, and it's hard to keep you two separated."

"Why?" Roxas ask. "Because we look alike?" Axel looks to Roxas and nods, biting his lip. "Axel, that can't be the only reason why you keep comparing us."

Axel rubs his head and exhales. "It's . . . complicated."

"Then explain it to me."

"I really can't when I don't even understand it myself."

"Well then this was just a complete waste of time!" Roxas angrily dismisses and he starts to increase the speed of his walk.

"Look Roxas, I'm trying to apologize to you!" Axel says as he grabs Roxas' shoulder and tries to turn Roxas to face him.

"Yeah and it's the worst apology ever." Roxas says slapping his hand away.

"Look, it's' just, hard to not see one in the other." Axel admits.

"What are you talking about?"

Axel growls. "Because you're an independent, bruiting eighteen-year-old who can make anyone fear him with a spillage of blood. Ventus, Ventus he can't survive out there. He's the kind of boy who would rather bake cookies than spill blood."

Roxas looks at him with his mouth agape before his eyebrows frown. "So basically you can compare me to him, but you can't compare him to me?"

"Uh . . . I guess?"

"Why?!" Roxas demands. "I'm not weak!" Roxas pauses and his look turns serious that it sends chills down Axel's spine. "Is it because of the poison that you see him in me?"

Axel looks to Roxas, a few steps ahead of him and just breathes. Is that the truth? Can Axel only see Ventus in Roxas because of how weak he looked when infected with the venom? It seems to make sense. Roxas showed similarities to being Ventus, but Ventus doesn't show any similarities to being like Roxas.

"Axel, that was _one_ time." Roxas' voice is lower now though not really calmer as is quivers with anger. "I was _infected_ with poison and I wasn't thinking straight! It happened, it's over. So don't think that that one event makes me just like Ventus."

"Okay." Axel snaps. "Okay." He says with an exhale. "Look, I'm sorry for comparing you to Ventus, but to make it better . . . another reason why I freaked out is that, I can't trust Marluxia alone with anyone."

"Axel -"

Axel holds up his hand to stop Roxas, and it does. "And before you say anything, no it's not because I didn't think you could take him. It's just . . . he has no self-control."

"What?"

Axel leans against a tree and scratches his hair. "Marluxia, he's had . . . issues in the past. He's been in prison for assaults of any sexual nature."

Roxas flashes back to when Marluxia brushed his knuckles across Roxas' jaw. The man is attractive, and he does seem to use that to his advantage. "Has he done anything to Ventus?"

"No." Axel immediately replies. "Thankfully. But I guess just the thought of leaving anyone your age alone with him . . . it gets me on edge."

"Axel, I can take care of myself." Roxas sternly retorts.

"I know. I know."

"Then stop treating me like I am Ventus. You don't have to, burden yourself with protecting me. I can handle myself, okay?"

"Burden?" Axel repeats. "I never said it was a burden."

"It would have been if you were stupid enough to keep trying." Roxas says. "Hanging around with me tends to be bad for your health. Anyone caught with me has a pretty low survival rate."

"No wonder you don't have friends. But at least it's not by choice." Axel says.

"It is by choice." Roxas says.

"Really? So, if it weren't for your father or your guild, you still wouldn't have any friends?" Axel asks.

"I don't know. Maybe." Roxas says. "I know better than to fill my head with such petty fantasies."

"Why can't you have both?" Axel asks.

Roxas is silent as they continue to walk to the city. He pulls back his hood and combs his fingers through his hair.

"Because of your father?" Axel answers himself. Roxas is quiet.

"He wants me pure."

"So constricting your social life is a part of it?" Axel interrogates.

"In my line of business, I can't trust anyone."

"That I understand, but what about people on the outside? Like the kids around town?" Axel mentions.

Roxas thinks back to Olette and Pence and their kindness and genuine nature. They seem like the last kinds of people who would betray Roxas, even if they're oblivious to his background.

"Trust is for fools. Fear is the only reliable way." Roxas finally answers. He turns to Axel, and he expects to find a cold confidence, but he strangely finds forlorn. "Even you fear me."

Axel looks at him, and deep past his eyes, beneath his independence and impulsiveness, beyond his boldness and coldness, Axel can see desperation. As if he wants Axel to prove him wrong, and yet if Axel says he's not, he wonders if the boy will feel a sense of determination to make Axel scared of him.

Axel decides to take the plunge. "I'm not scared of you, Roxas. I'm scared _for_ you."

Roxas stares at him for a moment. Axel almost regrets it, half expecting Roxas to become angry again and slap him again. But Roxas keeps staring at him, and then he finally blinks and turns away. It might be the play of the shadows, but Axel could swear he sees the boy turn the corners of his mouth upward, and his face muscles relax as if with a sense of satisfaction . . . and peace.

"So . . . just out of curiosity, what happened to your other clothes?" Axel nudges Roxas with his elbow. Roxas slaps it away, but Axel can see his lips widen. "And where did you get the bag?"

"I stole it." Roxas bluntly answers.

Axel chuckles as he and Roxas return to the city. The moon is setting beyond the towers of the castle, and Roxas tells Axel that it must be around midnight.

When they enter the inn, it's gone rather quiet, returning to soft murmurs of small groups and leaving behind the lone drunkards left at the bar or slouched over in their booth seats. The once pounding music is now reduced to a lone lute player sitting posted by the fire. Axel and Roxas enter and head down the halls to find most of the doors closed. Peeking into Marluxia's room, he is asleep. Axel checks Xigbar's room and finds him unconscious with a bottle of mead dropped on its side near his hand that drapes over the edge, his fingers brushing the floor.

As Roxas unlocks the door to his room, Axel is approaching when he hears a soft voice carry across the hall. "Where have you two been?"

Roxas and Axel turn in unison and find Ventus standing in the doorway. He wears a white night shirt that's two sizes too big, so it stops at his mid-thigh and the cuffs reach just up to his fingertips, and with no pants. His tousled hair suggests he may have tried to sleep, but only spent the night tossing and turning.

"Ventus," Axel says with surprise, his tone almost suggesting that he and Roxas were caught doing something they weren't supposed to be doing. "You waited up."

"Where did you two go?" Ventus repeats, though this time the grogginess in his tone is clear.

"It's not really any of your business anyway." Roxas snaps. Axel looks to him, and Roxas' face softens and he looks off to the side.

"Uh, we were just talking, Ventus. Honestly." Axel says.

Ventus rubs his eyes and yawns. "At midnight?"

"Yes, look I'll explain everything in the morning. I promise." Axel says as he steps over to Ventus. He places his hands on Ventus' shoulder, and Roxas can practically see the boy melt at the Captain's touch. "But for now, just get to bed, okay?"

With a pat on Ventus' head, like a puppy he smiles sleepily and hums.

Axel is leading the boy back into his room when Roxas stops them. "Hey Ventus." Roxas says. Both the boy and Axel turn to him in surprise. "How about . . . you and I go hunting tomorrow afternoon?"

Ventus wearily rubs his eye, but Roxas can see the surprise and eagerness spark. "Really?"

"Yeah, why not."

"Okay." Ventus yawns.

"Great." Roxas finishes and he steps into his room, though he leaves the door open behind him.

Axel leads Ventus into his room and tucks him into the bed. "I'm sorry you waited up." Axel says as he pulls the sheets over Ventus.

"It's fine." Ventus yawns again. "I was just worried."

Axel half-smiles and strokes the boy's hair. "Well don't be. I'll tell you everything tomorrow when you get back from your hunting trip."

"Okay."

Once Ventus relaxes into the bed, Axel quietly gets up and leaves the room, closing the door noiselessly behind him. He steps over to Roxas' room. With the door open, Axel can see the boy standing shirtless before even making it to the threshold. With his weapons cast aside on the table, he unfolds his shirt from the inside out and tosses it onto the back of the chair. Axel gazes at Roxas' bare back, scattered with scars and bruises; the white gauze still wrapping around his ribs and shoulder.

"How's your rib and shoulder?"Axel asks, and he doesn't even see the boy startle.

"My shoulder feels . . . better. And my ribs, uh . . . maybe another day or two." Roxas answers as he searches the closet for a night shirt.

"How's your hand?" Roxas asks.

"Oh long since better, just need to keep it this way until the scab heals over." says Axel. "Hey there might be an apothecary shop here in town we can go to. I'm sure they have some ointments or remedies that can help you."

"Sure." Roxas answers. "In the morning?"

"If that's at your best convenience." Axel retorts.

He goes to undo the button of his trousers and Axel respectively averts his eyes. When he hears the adjusting of fabric, Axel finds the boy dressed in a pair of night shorts that match his shirt. Together they make a star patter on his front.

"Alright, well I'll just go and head to bed. Thanks for, letting me talk with you." Axel speaks as he claps and rubs his hands together.

"Course." Roxas says. He turns to look and just as Axel's about to leave the doorway, when Roxas jogs up the door and calls to him. "Axel."

Axel stops and turns on the toes of his feet.

"I'm sorry too. . ." Roxas says. ". . . for slapping you."

Without waiting for Axel to reply, Roxas softly shuts the door, only slightly disturbing the flame of the candle lamp on the wall. Axel ponders for a moment what the boy had just said, and turns back towards his room smiling.


	18. Chapter 17

How many hours Cloud has practiced, he doesn't know.

Sitting in the training room of the mansion, Cloud's feet ache from his constant movement. The room is spacious, with tall a ceiling and several windows, but the decorations are sparse. All it has is trunks, weapons and training equipment.

For the last week he has been restless. The thought of his son alone on a ship with scurvy infected sea men makes him want to walk down to the docks and raid any ship that comes to their town. He sent out the men to scour the kingdom once again, which leaves him alone, bored, and restless. Ever since Roxas went missing, his duties have dwindled to nothing. With his prime student gone, his travels and teaching mean nothing if Roxas can't be there to witness it. He figured in another day or two, he'd lead a caravan robbery, just so he can have something to do.

He practices with his swords and daggers to pass the time. Cloud thinks back to when he was Roxas' age, mentored under an elderly man many years ago, and from him learned many stances and techniques. He ran through them one by one. If he was to retain his reputation, even without his son, he needed to be at his finest. His daggerwork is the best. By the time he finishes, his boy is coated with sweat and his arms throb.

Cloud slices the head off of a mannequin when Saix comes in with the note.

"What is it?" Cloud urgently asks. He catches Saix's eyes wandering, then realizes his shirt is unbuttoned. Rolling his eyes Cloud gets up and spins his daggers. "Speak, Saix, I have little patience."

"I've received word from Xemnas." Saix says as he holds out a folded piece of parchment.

"Xemnas? Of the Spiders?" Cloud repeats snatching the note. "I'm surprised they could see anything as they do nothing but spend their time getting drunk."

"Not every guild's life is as exciting as ours." Saix says.

Cloud shakes his head. "Even our men still need to be more aware. Already something has happened to my son. Should something happen to me, an attack on our guild would immediately follow."

"A silly worry," Saix says. "Since when can something happen to you?"

Cloud looks at him as if deciding whether to smile or scowl. So instead he shrugs.

"Even the impossible tends to find its way into our everyday lives."

"Roxas and the crew have stopped in Atlantica." Saix informs.

Cloud unfolds the paper and tries to read Xemnas' horrid handwriting. Half of the training the men should go through it trying to decipher this man's poor handwriting. Still Cloud manages to piece together what it says.

"What?!" Cloud exclaims. She crumples the paper and throws it across the room into the fireplace.

"What did it say? If I may ask." Saix says.

Cloud shakes his head and his lip contorts into a viscous snarl. "These men are ruining my men."

"Sir . . ."

"Xemnas reports, that he and the men of the ship were . . . dancing. Having merriment."

"I'm sorry, Master, I don't understand why that is so bad." Saix says.

Saix is not prepared for the rage that roars to life in Cloud's eyes, his hands, and his snarl. Cloud slams Saix against the wall, his wrists pinned. Before he even know he was in danger, Saix is helpless.

"Listen carefully," he says to Saix. Somehow his rage never reaches his voice. "Roxas must remain pure. He has the chance to become something incredible. I will have my heir, and I will not risk its ruin to the caress of a woman, the stupor of drink, or the delusion of friends. Do you understand me?"

"Yes sir." Saix says.

Cloud lets go of his hands, glances around the room, and sighs.

"I can't have them softening hi up." Cloud says.

"Sir, perhaps Roxas has a plan." Saix suggests, his voice quieter.

"Elaborate."

"Perhaps he is trying to earn their trust. I was also given word that Roxas promised the men a rewarding boon should they succeed in his safe return."

Cloud stops for a moment. "Oh did he now?" Cloud turns and leans against the trunk that holds all his arrows and bows. He smiles and laughs. "That _brilliant_ child. He has my same conniving mind that helped me claw my way to power."

Saix can't help but feel uneasy at the way that Cloud chuckles. He shakes his head and runs his fingers through his hair, but all the while he seems calmer at the thought of his son being in control and still being cold and ruthless as he spent years training him.

"Also, he promised Xemnas that you can have the pleasure of killing their captain." Saix says.

Cloud grins. "Very well. I'll let him play his game. And once they reach home again, then I will have those men for myself. You can bring the men back home. I'll have jobs for them. Now that I know where he is, I will navigate them until they reach home."

"As you wish, Master."

"Dismissed." Cloud orders.

When Cloud hears the door shut behind him, he sighs and lets out a soft manic laugh. A strange sense of pride blooms in his chest as he thinks about his legacy. His son is proving him proud. Cloud thinks back to his lesson of adaptation. Adapt or die. Roxas is proving well, but still, what kind of father would be if Cloud didn't interfere. Perhaps a form of . . . intervention.

Cloud shouts for his men, and even with the mansion being large, black cloaks rush towards him in seconds. "Find Zexion. I'll need his spells."

* * *

At dawn, Roxas lies in bed for a while, watching the sun come up on a beautiful morning. If his counting is correct, this should be day nine of Roxas being away from home. Though the time is short, to Roxas it feels like it's been months. Back in his younger years, Roxas and his father would devote their mornings to training in the woods. Mainly shooting and honing his marksman skills.

He always said that composure was the key to a successful archer. If you can remain calm, even in the midst of chaos, your arrow will most likely find its target.

One particular morning, Roxas and Cloud walked through the woods to a small clearing where Lexaeus had strung a heavy wire between two trees and hooked up a dummy to it. It's about Cloud's height and weighs in at an even one hundred and seventy pounds. He's got Roxas by forty pounds and five inches. Cloud always said that if Roxas could take the dummy, he could handle any man two tried to give him trouble.

He handed Roxas two swords fit for his size and just told him to fight. The dummy slide, swung and moved with Roxas' own momentum, and while it wasn't the same as fighting something with intelligence, he kept Roxas on his toes. Roxas could run him through with his knife, yank the blade free, duck and spin around to bury his weapon in his back while he slid towards him. But with two weapons, it was different. Roxas couldn't slam the hilt of it into the dummy, nor spin the blade side around before his sparring partner swings back and sent Roxas sprawling.

After his fourth disastrous attempt, Roxas let fly with the most creative swear word he's ever heard his father say and tossed the swords onto the grass beside him. Roxas couldn't master it. He lied back on the grass, squinted against the glare of the afternoon sin, and suddenly felt like crying.

"Get up." Cloud coldly demanded. "Try again."

"I can't master it." Roxas said.

"_Get up_."

Roxas sniffed and slowly pushed himself to his feet. He grasped the swords and took a deep breath. The smell of grass, sun-warmed dirt, and the fresh bud slowly unfurled in the clearing infected his nose. Roxas felt his father walk behind him, his arms wrapped around him, Cloud's hands covering Roxas' and holding Roxas in place. Roxas went rigid, but forced himself to relax.

"Drop your shoulders a bit. You'll need more room to move." Cloud tightened his grip on Roxas' hands when they started to slide together. "No, you don't. Nice, wide grip. Keep it loose. Gives you balance and control. There's my boy."

Roxas dropped his shoulders and exhaled. He widened his grip and kept his eyes forward.

"All right, now, you've got two weapons in both hands. You'll only have seconds to decide which one to use." Cloud let go of Roxas' hands, and places callused palms on Roxas' shoulders. "Big man, springing towards you."

"Weapon?"

"Doesn't matter, Roxas. He's twice your size and his speed will bring him in range within seconds. Which hand do you use first?" His fingers curled around Roxas' shoulders as if willing him to know the answer.

"Right hand. Use your most dominant hand." Roxas spins the sword in his right hand, slashes and ducks.

"Very good." Cloud squeezed Roxas' shoulders and walked around to face Roxas. "Now, if you must engage an opponent who is bigger, stronger, and faster, what do you do?"

"Take him down. Make it so he can't get up and come after him." Roxas answered.

"Yes. He won't expect a boy of twelve to know how to stop him. You'll get one chance to surprise him. Make full use of that advantage. Where do you make the first cut?" Cloud's eyes were deep grey, like a sky before the rain fall, and the fierce determination in them filled Roxas with the same.

"Let him come in, then spin and slash the inner thigh as I turn. Cut open the artery." Roxas drew in a deep breath, imagined a man barreling towards him, let him come almost too close for comfort, and then spun and slashed, planting his left foot to keep his balance for the next move.

"Good! He's bleeding, but the pain hasn't hit him yet, and he doesn't realize how badly he's hurt. He'll try to come after you. How do you stop him?" Cloud questioned.

"Cut the Achilles tendon as he passes me, then get out of range." Roxas spun and slashed again, the blades beginning to feel like an extension of his arms as he thrust, turned and sliced in tune with his father's voice.

Cloud started clapping, pride and love written on his face. "You did it. I knew you could. I always knew you could."

Roxas opens his eyes and finds himself staring out the window. The sunlight pours into his room and lightening the space. He feels a brief, delicious feeling of happiness that is connected to his father. Happiness, of course, is a complete absurdity now at this age. Still, the sensation's so unexpected and sweet Roxas clings to it, if only for a few moments.

He can't help but feel like his father was, more . . . understandable when he was younger. Roxas was a child, still trying to learn how to swing a blade. Still innocent to the world of his father's 'business', budding to becoming a young man.

Some days go by that Roxas wishes he was young again to see his father's compassionate side again. It rarely shows, and now he's scorning and constantly pushes Roxas to be better, outwardly sounding angry but silently content.

Sighing, Roxas pushes to a sitting position and rubs his face, trailing back into his hair. He looks out the window again and sees the outline of other shops and apparitions of people passing behind his curtains. A part of Roxas wants to hide back under the covers and just curl into a ball and snuggle back down. There's something about a bed that makes you want to stay in it even when you have obligations to do in the morning. Still, Roxas pushes aside the quilt and his warmth diminishes instantly.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, Roxas stands and stretches out his limbs. He dresses into his guild uniform and straps all his weapons around his waist and back. Ruffling his hair, he adjusts his spikes. After his dip in the sea, Roxas' believes his hair is softer and cleaner than before.

Walking out into the pub area of the inn, there's a sense of calm with no one around; except for the redhead sitting at a booth seat with an enormous platter of food. Roxas walks up and catches Demyx's attention with his footsteps. Demyx looks up and gives him a smile.

"Morning." He says.

"Hey."

"Sit down! Sit down!" Demyx motions. "I ordered some for you too."

"Thank you." Roxas slides into the booth and observes Demyx's little sprawl.

Eggs, ham, piles of pancakes, a tureen of fruit and a basket of bread rolls and a glasses of orange juice and water. Demyx fixes Roxas a plate with two eggs, a piece of toast and a small bowl of rice. He then slides a glass of water with a lemon wedge towards Roxas.

"Thank you." Roxas repeats. He takes a spoon and fork and begins to cut at the yolk of the egg.

They sit like this, quietly eating while a member of the staff, a bard, comes into the room and begins to strum the strings of a lute. The quiet music along with soft morning atmosphere makes Roxas almost feel at home. Demyx exchanges friendly glances with Roxas, both softly laughing at their silence from the good food.

"I'm guessing the food is good." Demyx laughs.

Roxas nods when they hear footsteps approach their seat. "Morning." says a mass of messy red spikes.

Demyx looks up over his shoulder, a small bit of pancake poking out of his mouth. He nearly spits it out when he sees the Captain's hair, and Roxas snickers at Demyx's reaction.

"You're early." Axel says as he fixes his hair and makes his way towards Roxas' side of the booth.

"No, you're just late." Roxas says. He shifts over as Axel slides into the booth. He goes for Roxas' food with a fork, when Roxas smacks it away with his own. "Get your own!"

"But that takes work." Axel says as he goes for a bit of Roxas' pancake. Again Roxas knocks it away.

"I said get your own." He growls. "Don't make me bring out the knife."

Axel can't help but suddenly smile at the boy's attempt to sound funny, yet with his demeanor he still appears to be serious. So Axel gets up and gets a plate and comes back, sitting back down, Roxas strangely allowing him to sit back down. In fact, Axel was surprised Roxas let him sit down the first time. He expected the boy to just sit still and force Axel to sit with Demyx. But Roxas gives him room and lets Axel sit down next to him.

Roxas eats his eggs, then moves on to his bowl of rice, wiping the remnants of the yolk with his piece of toast. "How could you afford all this?" Roxas asks Demyx after sipping his water.

"I invested my money responsibly while others invested in whore and rum." Demyx says with a proud tone.

Roxas softly chuckles and shakes his head. He turns to Axel. "So anything from Ventus?"

Axel shrugs. "He was groggy, so I don't necessarily think that he remembers most of what happened, but we'll see."

"Oh my gosh you finally made him a man." Demyx says, and Axel nearly splurts out his water, and Roxas actually laughs a little louder at Axel's reaction. All together their table quickly gained the attention of the bartender.

"No!" Axel says. "No! No, no, no."

Demyx bursts into laughter as he finishes his fourth pancake, Roxas taking another delicate sip of his water. While Demyx and Axel start to bicker, Roxas gets up.

"Move." He says.

Axel looks up. "What, why?"

Roxas looks to him with a face that suggests he can't be serious. "Seriously? I need to take a piss." Roxas bluntly says. Demyx snickers as Axel gets up from the booth and Roxas follows after him.

"Don't forget we need to head to the apothecary shop." Axel reminds.

"Got it!" Roxas calls back.

Once Axel's sure he leaves, Axel decides to take his plate up to the counter. The bartender thanks him and takes the dishes.

When he sits back down, Demyx says, "Well, you two seem to be getting along."

"What are you talking about? Haven't you been listening?"

"No I've been watching. And he seems to be warming up to you." Demyx says.

"I think you've had better progress than I have." Axel insists.

Demyx shrugs. "I feel like he tolerates me more. But you two, I mean he's willingly going with you to the shop. I doubt that a week ago he would've gone anywhere with anyone."

"Look, I just think that the mermaid thing might've given him a . . . reason to open up. I mean we've obviously seen him at his weakest."

"Or he could've used that as a means to only keep his distance." Demyx rephrases. "I mean, since we've seen him, like so weak, he could've easily turned that into only being more ruthless to prove to us that he isn't weak. But instead I feel like, it's what you said; because we saved him or witnessed him . . . like that, he's opening up, a least a little bit."

"I don't know, the boy is complicated. But I know for sure he has no intention of bonding. He's just using us as we are him." Axel declines.

"Huh?"

"Remember, we're using him for the reward he promised us." Axel reminds.

"I completely forgot about all of that. And I know you did to." Demyx says. He leans forward, his forearms resting on the table. "I mean, he could be doing all this just to gain _our_ trust, or he could actually be growing, tolerable. We'll never know, and all we can do now is let him do what he wants. We'll find out where his loyalties stand."

"But that could lead to our demise." Axel says. "He was raised by Cloud."

"I won't deny he's probably the biggest threat we'll ever face. He's has a great deal of encyclopedic knowledge, and is fluent in several languages so it would seem."

"Sometimes children are bad people too."

Demyx shrugs again. "You never know Axel. You just never know."

They hear the click of a door and Demyx gets up and takes the empty plates. As he walks up to the counter, he sees Roxas now adorned in his cloak, the burlap sack slung on his back and smiles. Roxas doesn't return the gesture only nods his head. Axel takes the rest of the plates up to the counter as Roxas pauses his walking.

"Are we heading out?" Roxas asks as Axel sets the plates on the counter.

"Now?"

"When else? I have to be back here by noon to take Ventus hunting."

"Oh, you were serious about that?" Axel asks surprised.

"Yeah why?"

"I don't know," Axel shrugs. "I thought it was just something you said to get him to go to sleep."

"I won't deny, it was. But . . . I don't know I just feel like I owe him." Roxas admits.

"For what?" This time Demyx asks the question.

"Because I can tell the way he looks at me, he wants to be me." Roxas says.

Axle leans against the counter and folds his arms. "How?"

"I'm not saying to be cocky, but it's just the way his face is. I see him looking at me when he thinks I can't."

"Well . . . that's actually . . . nice of you." Demyx says.

Roxas rolls his eyes. "Whatever."

"And your 'assassin instincts' don't think that teaching Ventus some moves is a bad thing?" Axel asks, his fingers hooking like talons when he puts the air quotes around assassin instincts.

Roxas scoffs. "Please, I've had years of training. His skills will be weak compared to mine. He tries anything, I will cut him down."

Axel tightens his fingers on his bicep at the thought of Roxas harming Ventus. It almost makes him want to reprimand the boy.

"So, are we heading out?" Roxas repeats.

"Yeah, sure." Axel answers. "Demyx are you heading anywhere?"

With another shrug of his shoulders, Demyx just smiles. "Eh, might head around town, look at new instruments."

"The last thing you need is another piece of wood that makes noise." Roxas says as he cleans his knife.

Demyx childishly sticks out his tongue and waves them off. Axel follows Roxas out the door, and out onto the town.

With people still in their beds at the early dawn, the streets only have a few gatherings of people who are smart enough to rise up early to beat the crowd. Though those who are out are elderly women as well as a few mothers bringing their too young to stay home alone children. Axel and Roxas walk side by side and Roxas decides to let Axel lead them to the shop. As they walk, Roxas keeps his hands on his dagger and the other on his gun. Axel doesn't expect much, in fact he planned ahead for the awkward silence that's happening between them and decided to busy himself by looking at the display windows. They pass the seamstress shop that has a mannequin decked in a beautiful blue dress and a pair of crystal slippers. Then a bookstore with four new books on the front and stacked in piles. And a pet shop with puppies wrestling in a thick bed of hay.

"How long do you normally stay in towns?" Roxas suddenly asks.

Axel jerks his head to the boy and finds Roxas still looking straight ahead, with his hood up, as if nothing happened. Axel would've not responded, but he knows he did hear the boy talk.

He licks his lips before speaking. "Um . . . we usually stay one or two days."

"Why so short?" Roxas asks.

"Eh . . . just because we explore a lot."

"And you raid the place."

"Only if they're small." Axel corrects.

"Do you ever stay long, just because?" Roxas continues to ask.

Was Roxas actually trying to converse with him? Axel didn't know whether to just keep going, or ask the boy what his plan or point is; because he wouldn't do this normally. Unless he overheard Demyx and Axel's conversation. So he'll either be trying to gain their trust, or is trying to actually bond with them.

Or perhaps Axel is just overthinking everything because of the boy's reputation.

"Usually it's just because of the weather and we're forced to stay in town. Or the men are too drunk and I don't want them vomiting all over the ship." Axel says, and he hears the boy softly chuckle.

"Have you been here before?" Roxas asks. "You seem to know this pretty well."

"Well, yes and no. I have been here before, but not long, as established before. And I asked some locals where to go." Axel smiles.

Roxas gives a ghost of a smile as they continue. Axel leans forward slightly and notices the two now scabbed over bite marks of the mermaids.

"You took off your bandage." Axel points out.

Roxas nods. "Oh yeah. It's fine now. Hurts like a bitch though. Like it always feels warm."

"Don't worry, I'm sure they'll have something. Up here." Axel points.

Up ahead there's a shop with its sign being a beaker filled with bubbling purple substance and a stream of steam coming up from the rim. Up above the forest green bullnose awning is the title of the shop named: "Medicine" with a sharp and clean red cross under the title. The display window contains small glass vials, each a different color and shape. They stand gathered together like potion bottles in a sorcerer's forgotten cabinet. Instead of magical elixirs, though, each little vial held an assortment of tinted and colored liquids. Axel takes a couple steps ahead and pulls open the door for Roxas.

"After you." Axel motions with a smile.

"Thank you."

Roxas steps in and Axel follows behind. Bookshelves stuffed with dust-caked tomes lined the walls. Inside is another display case with more bottles, vials, beakers and dried and wrapped herbs and flowers. There's only two, what can't even be called aisles since they're just iron racks with smaller paper-wrapped packages and sealed herbs. The smell of the shop is a mixture of things as a result of many concoctions brewed inside. But a definite scent if that of vanilla and the rest is a spicy and . . . rusty scent; like autumn almost.

Gazing around, Roxas walks up to the display case and peers inside. He recognizes most of the herbs from Zexion's teachings as well as a book be lent Roxas to study. It was an old thing of parchment and leather that was passed down through generations. Roxas decided to take it upon himself to add a section of edible plants, and recorded his own information he picked up over the years.

Axel rings the bell on the counter and leans slightly over to see if any workers are present. "Hello?" he calls.

There is no answer. The only indication of where they are is a black curtain strung up between a doorway to the back room.

Axel sighs and saunters over to Roxas, leaning against the glass and propping on his elbow. "Think anyone's here?" Axel asks.

"Obviously, or else they wouldn't be open." Roxas remarks.

"Or maybe they just opened." Axel counters, earning him a stare from the boy. Axel answers with a smirk and waggle of eyebrows. Roxas shakes his head and continues on.

"So, why are you taking Ventus hunting?" Axel asks.

"I think we just went through this." Roxas says as he rolls his eyes and leans against the glass himself.

"I know, but really. Why are you doing this?" Axel asks.

"Why don't you believe me?" Roxas pawns.

"Gee, I wonder." answers Axel. "But look I'm not trying to start anything I just, want to know."

"You can't believe I'm doing it out of the kindness of my heart?" Roxas sarcastically asks.

"I would if I knew it existed." Axel states. Roxas glares at him momentarily. "I just want to make sure, he's safe."

"If you want that, then you wouldn't let him go with me at all. So it's good to know you trust me a little." Roxas says, emphasizing his point by narrowing his pointer finger and thumb down to one another. "Either that or your just stupid."

"I said I didn't want to start anything." Axel says as he moves closer to Roxas.

"I know. And I get why you don't trust me. But, consider it, payment for saving my life." Roxas says.

Axel looks to the boy with bewilderment. "Payment? Who said you needed to repay me?" He's now less than a foot near Roxas. Close enough he can catch a whiff of the boy's scent. It's something surprisingly . . . soft.; something between dew-covered pond lilies and fresh soap.

"I know." Roxas replies, folding his arms. "But this is how I do business."

"This isn't even a business, Roxas." Axel says softly, relaxing more on the counter and leaning more towards Roxas. He doesn't seem to notice, or he doesn't seem bothered. "You don't owe me anything."

Roxas looks up to him and doesn't jolt back at Axel's closeness. "Well that's not what I was taught. The only reason why anyone does anything for other people is so they get their own form of reward in the end. You saved me because if I died, not only would not get your reward, but my father's men would have your head on a pike."

Axel's eyes furrow as if frowning at Roxas' close-mindedness. "Is that the only reason why you think I saved you?"

"Well what else is there?" Roxas asks.

Axel leans closer when Roxas turns his head at the sound of the curtain being brushed aside. Axel follows his gaze and finds an elder woman walking up to the counter. She smiles at the men and places her hands delicately on the counter.

"What can I do for you boys?" She asks.

Roxas turns to face her and Axel exhales heavily. "Um, yes actually. We were wondering if you had any healing salves or possibly medicine." Axel says.

"Okay, and for what wound?" she asks as she goes over to a cabinet near the back right corner. Axel looks to Roxas who raises his eyebrows and goes first.

"Um, well I have a bite mark as well a scratch mark on my ribs." Roxas explains.

"Ah, okay." The woman reminds Roxas of the one back in his kingdom that runs a candy shop. Same tint of gray hair wrapped in a bun with spectacles on her nose and a soft pink dress with a green apron around her waist.

She opens up the cabinets and pulls out a thin vial with a lime green liquid, sealed with a cork.

"Any specific? Like what animal?" she asks.

Roxas looks to Axel who only shrugs and drifts his gaze off to the side. Roxas clears his throat and scratches his head.

"Uh, I don't think you'll believe me if I told you." Roxas says.

The woman laughs as she walks back up to the counter. "Honey, I've been in this business along time and I've seen all kinds. There isn't a potion that I haven't made for any kind of sickness or wound."

"Uh, okay. Um, I was bitten by a mermaid." Roxas quietly says, slightly embarrassed.

The woman raises her eyebrows and then nods her head. "Okay, then this won't do." She says as she picks up the vial and puts it back in the cabinet. "I'm assuming it gave you both those wounds?" She gestures.

"Yes, but you're not . . . surprised?" Roxas asks.

"No of course not. Living here, those are actually more of the common wounds and bites I receive." She replies. "I'm assuming you went through the delusions of their venom?"

"Unfortunately." Roxas agrees.

"Hmm, well you're lucky. Most men don't make it at all." she says.

"Hmm, comforting." Axel chimes.

The woman brings forward a beaker this time with a wide bottom filled with a clear yet slightly blue tinted liquid. "Okay, so this'll help with the pain, and also . . . flush out any more venom left in your system, though you seem to be handling well."

"You have no idea." Roxas murmurs. "So, how much." He asks.

"That will be twenty coin." She says. Roxas easily pays for the serum in which she wraps in a brown paper bag. "And what about you, honey?" She gestures to Axel.

"Um, I just need some gauze for my hand." Axel says as he leans on the counter while Roxas roams around the rest of the shop.

"You go through the same as him?" she asks smiling.

"Uh nope, but it's close enough." Axel sighs.

Axel unwraps his hand and shows the lady his scar. The blood has clot and scabbed over now, entering their near final stages of healing.

"Not bad." She assesses. She kneels behind the counter and pulls out a small silver container about the size of Axel's palm, unscrews the top and shows a pale green ointment. "Just apply some of this ointment to it and it'll heal much faster."

"Okay."

"Whoever bandaged you up has some pretty good skills. Kept it from getting infected as well as cleaning it properly. I'm sure if anyone else had done it, you'd need your hand removed."

"Are you always this charming or are we just lucky." Roxas says as he walks up.

The woman laughs and wraps up Axel's container in paper and then in a paper package, sealing with a string. "There you are boys." She says.

Axel pays for the ointment and takes the package. "Thank you."

"Thank you very much." Roxas says.

"Anytime boys, you two be careful." The woman smiles as she waves them off.

Roxas and Axel exit the shop and begin to head back to the inn.

"I think we've got a while before you need to go off with Ventus." Axel says. "You want to get something to eat?"

"Didn't you just eat a buffet of breakfast food?" Roxas says.

"Yeah, and now I'm hungry again." Axel retorts. Roxas shakes his head but gives a small smile.

Roxas decides to follow Axel as he takes the lead into the produce section of the marketplace. The scent of baker food and pasta and spicy sauces reach Roxas; nose and he hums in delight at the pleasurable smells. Roxas can't help but love the smell of foreign food. It's the idea of trying something new makes him excited. He's had his variety with recopies acquired by the chefs of his mansion, and loved the meals that came from the Destiny Isles and Hallow Bastion.

Axel and Roxas wander around, Axel gazing more at the presentations of food and spicy concoctions begging to be used. Roxas allows Axel to tuck away the ointment away into his sack with his medicine. They reach a stall with fried calamari and Roxas can't help but lean in closer, a smile playing on his lips.

"You want to sample?" the man hosting the stall asks.

Roxas eagerly nods as the man sticks a toothpick into one of the calamari and hands it to him. Roxas carefully takes the pick as the man readies one for Axel. Axel dips it in one of the sauces and pops it in his mouth. Roxas hums as his mouth floods with flavor, and Axel readies another one as Roxas disposes of the toothpick.

"Here, try this." Axel says as he hands Roxas the calamari. Roxas eyes him cautious. "Come on, it's just some dipping sauce."

After a few seconds, Roxas places his hand over Axel's and draws his hand near. Roxas opens his mouth, closing his eyes and Axel pops the calamari in his mouth. Axel can feel his cheeks warm. Roxas chews and his eyes widen.

"Oh my gosh! That's amazing!" Roxas exclaims.

Axel laughs. His reaction is something that Ventus would do. Roxas would slice Axel's throat if Axel said that. So Axel keeps it to himself as he sticks the toothpick between his teeth.

"You like it?" the man asks. Roxas nods.

"Right now, if you but three I can give you a pack of calamari for free." He persuades.

Roxas looks at the display while Axel helps himself to a third sample. "Mmm, how about . . . we do a trade?" Roxas suggests. The man flinches his head.

"How so?" he asks.

"I'm going hunting later in the woods later. How late will you be open?" Roxas asks.

"Uh about midnight." The man says.

"Okay, I'll be back." Roxas says. "I promise."

"Of course. You boys have a nice day now." He waves.

Axel follows Roxas as he heads back to the inn, a much quicker pace. "You're really going to trade him? Why didn't you just pay for his deal?" Axel asks.

"Because I want to spend my money wisely, plus this way it's a win-win." Roxas says.

"You liked those samples though." Axel says.

"Definitely! They were delicious." Roxas says.

They make it back to the inn where the lunch rush has come in as three wrenches walk around refilling drinks and taking empty plates. Xigbar and Luxord as well as a few other men sit at a table. Xigbar notices them and waves. Axel waves back as they head for the bedrooms.

Ventus' room is open and he's on his bed writing into his journal. Axel peeks his head in as Roxas unloads his things on his bed in his room. Ventus is dressed in a short-sleeve tunic with a brown leather jacket on top, brown trousers and boots.

"You look ready to hunt." Axel says, making Ventus jump and possibly screw up his writing. He smiles as Ventus clutches a hand to his chest.

"Not funny." Ventus snickers as he closes the journal.

Axel strolls in and sits on the end of the bed. "So, you excited about hunting with Roxas?"

"Uh, define excited." Ventus fidgets with his fingers.

"You know you don't have to go." Axel reminds.

"I know."

Axel peers down as Ventus shifts his gaze to the floor. "Then what's wrong?"

"It's not about hunting with Roxas." Ventus says. Axel immediately feels his body grow cold. He knows what Ventus is talking about. "Where were you two last night?"

Axel sighs and leans forward, balancing his elbows on his knees, his hands intertwined in the middle. "We got into an argument, and I went to go to apologize to him. That's all."

Ventus seems to relax a little. "Okay."

"Alright?" Axel says as he gets up and turns towards the door.

"Axel." Ventus stops him. Axel turns and Ventus approaches. "Also . . . I wanted to say . . ." He stops inches from Axel, picking at nonexistent dirt under his fingernails. "I'm -"

"Ventus."

Looking past Axel Ventus sees Roxas standing in the doorway, two bows and arrows slung across his back and the second sheath strapped around his waist.

"Hey, Roxas." Ventus reluctantly greets.

"You ready?" he asks.

"Uh . . . yeah." Ventus says, scratching a spot above his ear.

"Axel here." Roxas tosses Axel the silver container and Axel catches it with one hand. "Don't forget that."

"Thanks." Axel says.

"Ventus come on." Roxas says as he motions the boy out of the room.

"Coming." Ventus says. He passes Axel and exits the room.

Axel follows the boys, watching them as Roxas takes the lead and ushers Ventus out of the inn. Axel saw the face of shock and possible hurt on Ventus' face. His sympathy soon replaces with anger. Why is Ventus so clingy? Why did he have to know Axel's every move? He's gone from being the cute innocent first mate, to the overly attached shipmate. How could being with Roxas, even for the slightest trip makes him so, on edge?

Axel decides to let it go until they come back. He's already fixed things with Roxas, the last thing he wants to do is start something with Ventus.

Ventus follows Roxas through the town to the gates that lead to the forest preserve. Ventus sticks close to Roxas as they enter deeper and deeper. The trees stretch up high and thin around them, gathering together like innumerable prison bars, all brown with leaves. A good portion litters the ground of the trail in which they follow. Still and silent, the woods seem almost mute. Beyond the trees, a backdrop of sky blue bleeds through like a glowing cyclorama, casting everything into eerie outlines. Ventus looks up. Above him, beyond the spiderweb mesh of tangled tree limbs, there rolls a fluffy-cloud sky. Green leaves drift down around them gently.

For a few minutes, Ventus follows Roxas silently as he leads him through the woods as if he's been raised here all his life. A steady stream flows down along an outcropping of rocks where the spot seems like a great place to hunt fish.

"Okay," Roxas says as he drops the sack and pulls off his cloak. "We can set up here."

Ventus nods as he pulls off his jacket and hangs it on a branch.

"You're awfully quiet." Roxas says.

"I'm nervous."

"You wanted to do this, remember?" Roxas reminds.

"Yeah."

"Don't be nervous." Roxas assures. "I'll go easy you."

"Don't do me any favors." Ventus snaps.

"Don't start something you can't finish." Roxas snaps back. "We'll start with weapons, and work our way to the basics."

"Okay." Ventus nods.

They now sit on the ground, under the shade of a weeping willow. Roxas had pulls out his daggers and shows Ventus the blades of each knife and the purposes they had. For the next few hours, Roxas shows Ventus all of the available weapons he had. The different styles of bows and what they're good for, how to steal another man's weapon and on looting another person for salvage.

As Roxas explains all the weapons, Ventus can't help but wonder how Roxas managed to strive without friends. He can' deny a part of him envies Roxas, but at the same time, did he even have friends? Probably not in his line of work, you can't trust anyone.

Well that is about to change.


	19. Chapter 18

The forest is quiet. Birds chirp and the sound of the river echoes through the trees. The thin mist of dew dwindles through wrapping its hands around the branches. Rabbits scurry, squirrels forage.

Roxas is crouched in a gathering of foliage, his mask pulled over his face, a bow and arrow in his hand. He stares ahead, eyes locked in a trance. When his figure moves behind a tree, he's gone.

A male deer walks through a patch of wild petunias, huffing and sniffing for the scent of food; grazing at any edible grass along the way. Its footsteps and breathing the loudest in his ears. Roxas stands absolutely still behind two thick trees, gazing at the animal with coldness. The beast hasn't even detected his scent.

In a quick turn, Roxas spins out from his spot and shoots an arrow.

It lands in the reindeer's side and the beast roars and instantly bolts off running. Roxas chases after it in a full out sprint; keeping mind of his breathing.

He follows the beast through the trees, watching it as if slowly uses up all its energy in a meaningless effort to escape. They break through some bushes and into a meadow. Out in the open, Roxas pumps his arms at his sides and still sprints towards the deer; it now starts to walk. It whimpers and starts to teeter on its legs, its head groggily swaying from side to side.

Roxas sprints faster towards it.

Finally it collapses in a pile of spring flowers. Their shades of pink and white and yellow contrast with the deer's brown fur.

It heaves heavily as Roxas approaches, still whimpering. Roxas kneels down next to it and pulls the arrow free, erupting a cry from the animal.

Roxas stands and pulls his mask down, steadying his breathes. Ventus runs up behind him winded. He doubles over, clasping his hands to his hands to his knees. He wearily looks up to the deer and gives a look of uneasiness.

"Wow." He breathes.

The deer whimpers as Roxas walks around to its head. "I just missed your heart."

Squirming, the buck whines and Roxas pulls out his pistol before shooting it dead. Ventus jumps back startled, then regains balance. Ventus leans over Roxas shoulder as he starts to slice open the deer's belly with his dagger.

"Often times you won't be able to get close to your prey as you'd like and you'll have to settle with a long shot. However with such a long shot, it's more than likely that's the only shot you'll be able to take before your prey runs off. If you find yourself in such a situation, then you need to make your shot count. Don't rush your shot. Crouch down, get comfortable, and take aim." Roxas explains.

Ventus nods. Once he hears the slashing of intestines and organs, Ventus averts his eyes and resorts to pacing around in the grass.

"Aren't you going to help?" Roxas asks. Ventus looks up to see Roxas looking over his shoulder to him.

"Do you need it?" Ventus asks innocently.

"You wanted to learn remember?"

"I said I wanted to learn how to fight and hunt." Ventus reminds.

"And a part of both is learning to deal with blood and guts. Come on, it's not that bad."

"Easy for you to say." Ventus retorts as he reluctantly walks over.

"It is now, because I've grown used to it. Keep in mind my father had me do this when I was twelve. You're eighteen. You're way past due." Roxas says as he stands and hands Ventus the bloody knife. After a deep breath Ventus grabs the knife with a full grip instead of lifting his fingers to make sure they don't get blood on them.

"And you keep in mind that I wasn't raised by a cold assassin." Ventus says, and instantly regrets it. He waits for Roxas to pin him to the ground with the knife pressed to his neck, but nothing happens. Ventus looks to Roxas who keeps gazing at the deer carcass waiting for Ventus to finish. "No offense." Ventus adds.

"More like you're stating the obvious." Roxas adds. He kneels down next to Ventus as sees his hands shaking slightly. Roxas sighs. "Now come on. It's not going to hurt you. I know it's gross, but you'll get over it. Now, make a small incision . . . right down the belly."

Roxas points to a small area just beneath the deer's neck. Ventus nods and grips his hand to stop its shaking slightly.

For the last few hours Roxas spent it with Ventus teaching him the basics of close combat skills as well on how to handle his dagger properly in battle. Countless times Roxas defeated Ventus, telling him all of his mistakes and how to react in certain situations. Then when they moved on to shooting, Ventus seemed, happier. Probably at the fact that he don't have to witness the death up close. Roxas had pinned several paper maid targets to the trunks of trees and ushered Ventus up to a forty yard line limit.

"Now remember, you can have the best technique and form in the world, but it won't mean a thing if you can't focus. The key to using any weapon, is focus. If you can keep your composure and trust that each shot is true, then you should be able to quickly handle multiple targets." Roxas said.

After demonstrating and adjusting Ventus' form once he stepped up, Ventus seemed to hit the targets well.

Ventus surprisingly showed promise, according to Roxas judgment and what his instructors told him makes a decent student. When Roxas saw budding blisters appearing on Ventus' palm, Roxas decided to stop.

Then for this hour, Roxas was teaching Ventus hunting as well as stealth. Through it all, Ventus seemed willing to learn. So Roxas had to give the boy credit for his enthusiasm.

"Here, this'll help. Just take knife, and stab it." Roxas instructs.

"What?!"

"Trust me. It'll help, plus it helps with any anger issues. Do it."

Ventus sighs and after a pause, stabs the knife into the belly of the deer. Then he starts to drag his hands across it to the right, warmth flooding his hands and trailing up to drip on his wrists. He winces but continues until Roxas tells him to stop.

"Good job." Roxas says.

Ventus gags as he stands, his hands coated in blood. He groans as he whips his hands, splaying drops of blood on the grass.

"Do you remember a place where I can wash my hands?" Ventus asks.

"There was a stream a mile back. You can go there." Roxas suggests.

"Alone?"

"Well I can't go anywhere, not now." Roxas says. Ventus sighs and resorts to wiping his hands on the grass.

As Roxas starts to gut and skin the buck, he thinks back to when his father sent him hunting one day in the winter. It was in December and the temperature was close to freezing. Roxas was given a layered jacket and thicker boots as there was five inches of snow. The city was going through a starvation due to the lack of food since the ships couldn't sail through the icy waters. His father had taken advantage of this impasse as a way to get more members and dedications to his guild. He had taken Roxas out and by then Roxas was already a master at his hunting skills. The cold had made Roxas' hands so red and cracked that they bled at the slightest provocation. So sticking them inside a warm deer's body was slight relief.

"You're dead. Right now." Roxas heard his father say behind him, his voice coming out of nowhere. "I've killed you."

Roxas had thrown some entrails at his father as a means of distraction, but still it wasn't enough. He drew his daggers and started slashing. Within the means of a minute, Roxas' back slammed into the hard packed snowy earth, the air nearly knocked out of him.

"You were half asleep." Cloud provoked. He then turned and started to walk away.

Roxas pushed himself up on his hands and knees. "I'll do better next time." He said.

Cloud paused and barely looked over his shoulder. "Yes, you will." Cloud answered. "Drag the deer back yourself."

Roxas looked to the hundred and fifty pound deer and sighed. Thankfully if it weren't for his training with the dummy, the deer would've been a lot heavier. Through that deer, as well as several other of Roxas' kills, with his master eye, the game was always good and people soon begged Cloud to have him accept their wares and loyalties to his guild. In a sense, Roxas practically fed all the families of the members that winter until the ice finally melted.

"Roxas." Ventus says, his voice breaking Roxas away from his flashback.

"Yeah?" He answers, realizing he's already gutted the entire deer as well as cast its fur aside, leaving the intestines and guts in the carcass.

"I just . . . wanted to say, thank you." Ventus says.

Roxas turns and looks to the boy as he's standing with his arms folded over one another, as if in a self-embrace, his gaze cast to the side. "For what?"

Ventus shrugs. ". . . Just for training me. I really needed it." he softly chuckles.

Roxas gives a ghost of a smile. "Sure."

"You know you didn't have to."

"I know."

There's a moment of silence when Ventus speaks again. "Anything I can help carry?"

Roxas looks to him and Ventus is two steps closer, nearly standing over him. "Um . . ." Roxas looks around between the meat and the fur. "Uh . . . why don't we go to the river and clean everything, and then you can carry the fur back to the town."

"Okay." Ventus gently smiles.

Roxas gather up everything, handing Ventus the fur, which he takes happily as Roxas sorts out the meat in his bag. "Who knows, maybe we can catch some fish."

Ventus follow Roxas, the fur draped over his arms as he leads them back to the river. Really carrying fur was nothing to Ventus, he just really wanted to clean his hands . . . so badly, but he wouldn't let Roxas hear his complaining.

When the reach the river, Ventus immediately sets up by an outcropping of rocks and starts to clean the fur while Roxas washes the meat and cleans his knife. Every once in awhile, Ventus would hear the thwonk of the water as Roxas shoots at salmon. Killing fish was easier for Ventus since, well they're fish. Ventus even went fishing with his parents and scaling them was strangely his favorite activity. Not to mention it was a necessity now that he's sailing with Axel and his men.

"You're pretty good at that." He hears Roxas say. Ventus looks up and finds Roxas approaching with at least seven fish on a string. Two of which still flop about, splattering Ventus in the face with river water. Ventus looks down to double check what he's doing and realizes he's nearly cleaned the entire pelt.

"Oh, yeah." Ventus bashfully smiles.

"You do that a lot?" Roxas asks as he sits down next to the boy.

"Uh, not really. I'm surprised I still know how to do it since it's been a while. But I did used to do it with my parents." says Ventus.

"Your parents? You barely say anything about them." Roxas says.

"This is coming from the boy who's lonely been with this crew for a week."

"Nine days." Roxas corrects.

"It matters." Ventus counters.

Roxas chuckles and shakes his head. Ventus lays the fur on a rock to dry and sits with Roxas as he places a mint leaf on his tongue. Roxas tilts his head back and lets the summer sun warm his skin. A small smile stretches his lips.

"It would seem that your smiles are hard to come by." Ventus states. Roxas looks over, his lips starting to turn downward. "But I guess that's why ladies find you attractive."

Roxas' lips return and he looks back to the water. "Yeah right."

"Don't be modest." Ventus takes the risk and gently pushes Roxas, rocking him slightly. "You may not be paying attention, but I am. And by the way the girls whisper about you as you walk by, they want you."

Roxas laughs this time and still shakes his head.

"But still, you rarely do ever smile." Ventus points out.

"Not like I have much to be happy about."

"You don't find pleasure in killing anyone? Or bringing honor to your guild?"

Roxas sneers. "That's more of like a power control thing, and that brings temporary pleasure, which is different."

Ventus shrugs but nods his head. He shifts uncomfortably as Roxas leans back on his hands. "So, if I may ask . . ."

Roxas looks to him and nods in approval. "Sure."

"You talk a lot . . . about your father, but what about your mother?" Ventus riskily asks.

Roxas goes rigid and stifles a grunt. Ventus can tell he might have stepped a little too far over the line and feels his heart skip a beat in fear.

"I-I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to . . ." Ventus stutters.

"Why do you care?" Roxas asks, though it lacks its angry venom that Ventus expects.

"Look, despite what it might bring or what might happen in the future, I want to know about you. I'm honestly intrigued by what makes you . . . you. And I want to take a shot at being friends." Ventus says. He added that last part on impulsiveness, thinking that if he was honest with Roxas that would at least earn him a little respect.

"Getting close to me only brings death and betrayal." He states, his gaze growing stern and Ventus can see the assassin part of him coming out. Roxas gazes in the distant with steady eyes. He says it like it's a true statement, and Ventus can't help but feel pity towards him if he thinks of himself like that. Ventus can't imagine how many times that had to have happened for Roxas to believe it's a fact of his life.

"Not like refusing me will keep me safe."

"Yes it will." Roxas harshly retorts. "In my town, everyone knows everyone. They will attack those that I . . . those that I _know_, to try and hurt me. So I keep my distance. Getting to know someone only puts a target on their back for my enemies, and I have a lot of enemies." Roxas says.

Ventus doesn't know how to reply to that. His points are valid and true. Being in a guild, or any kind of criminal business, you can't trust anyone since they'll easily turn you over for a simple bag of gold or rumors that they can use as blackmail.

Blackmail. Betrayal. Gold. Blood. Poison. Daggers. Power. All these things add up to what makes Roxas who he is. It's no wonder he doesn't want anyone close to him, and yet Ventus can't help but talk.

"I don't think I care, Roxas."

Roxas looks to Ventus and his eyes show a genuine interest.

"What?"

"We're all going to die. It's inevitable. Ventus says.

"But don't you want to try and expand your years? Even if it's all an act?"

Ventus shrugs. "For me life is all about quality. Not quantity. And I'd rather make as many friends and impact so many lives as I can, even if it means I might be walking into my demise."

Roxas stares at him, then his eyes slowly move away. "Well then you're just stupid."

"You just don't get it."

"No I don't."

Roxas starts to pick at a clump of weeds. For a minute, the chirping birds and rippling of the stream water is all they hear. Then Roxas' voice breaks the stillness.

"What makes a friend, Ventus?" Roxas asks.

Ventus looks to Roxas, still picking at the weeds. He doesn't meet Ventus' gaze but Ventus can tell the questions makes him nervous.

"Well a friend is someone . . . who you can be honest with. Someone of whom you can trust your secrets with, and in return, they trust you with yours."

"That's it?"

"No. A friend is also someone who, remembers important details about you. Little things you don't pay attention to but they see." Ventus explains. "Like say for your birthday, you like chocolate and they give you a box of it, but with the chocolate comes with sprinkles because you said once that you like sprinkles."

"Sounds too, feminine."

"It's not. To put it bluntly, a friend is someone that you trust and care about like they're family." Ventus summarizes.

"What if you're gone from each other for a while?" Roxas asks.

"True friendship isn't about being inseparable, it's about being separated and nothing changes." Ventus answers.

Raking through his thoughts, Roxas can't really say that he was completely alone in his life, and yet he can. Vanitas was the only real friend he had, and even that can't be clarified as legit since they've rarely had any contact with each other for five years. And yet, when they met again they still acted like they never were apart. Taking the information Ventus provided, Roxas thinks he can trust Vanitas. He works alone so he has no real, reason to lie to others or deceive others. But something about him doesn't seem worth verifying as 'friend.' Could it be because of his father's training? Or maybe Roxas can't accept the idea that anyone would want to get to know him, let alone like him.

He has so many people around him, and yet he can't call them friends. His business is risky. There's Zexion, maybe Lexaeus. His father.

He thinks back to what Axel said. "_What about people outside the guild_?"

Could Roxas be friends with Olette? Pence? Demyx, or Ventus?

No, because they will be targeted. And then they will regret being friends with Roxas.

The conflicting emotions inside him is strong enough to feel like a war. Roxas shifts forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He suddenly feels like crying. "I can't." Roxas mumbles, shaking his head

"It's nice to think about." Ventus says. Roxas looks up to him. "You don't want to be friends because you're worried I'll get killed. So you at least care enough to want to let me live. Doesn't that count for something?"

He runs the tip of his tongue over his teeth behind closed lips as he debates. To Ventus' surprise, Roxas speaks.

"I'd like to have a friend." He says.

Ventus can't get past the way his voice sounds almost, pleading. Begging.

"You can." Ventus replies. Ventus' offer does make him feel better. Less duplicitous somehow.

Roxas ruffles his fingers in his hair and sighs. He closes his eyes and takes a few deep breathes. When he opens them, he speaks. "I never knew her, my mother, but I know my father did love her."

"What happened?" Ventus softly asks.

"She was killed, when I was babe. My father doesn't like to talk about it."

"Makes sense." Ventus softly replies.

"I hate it." Roxas says. Ventus looks to him and scooches himself closer. Roxas doesn't notice, or doesn't care. "I want to know, so much about her. I want to know who she was, what she was like. What would she look like? Because all I see in me is my father. Would we have both liked carrots and hated strawberries? Or maybe we would've both thought the only useful weapon in a seamstress shop would be a pair of scissors." Roxas says. When he inhales, his breath is shaky. His voice begins to quake. "I miss what we might have had together."

Ventus risks placing a hand on Roxas' shoulder in attempt in comfort. Roxas doesn't shrug it off. "I'm sorry, Roxas."

Strangely, this comforts Roxas more than if Ventus were to say it was okay. Because it's not okay. It's not okay that his mother is gone. It's not okay his father refuses to talk about it. It's not okay Roxas has to live his life without his mother. Would she even approve of the thief lifestyle? Would Roxas be a little more sympathetic and compassionate?

All of these questions can't and probably never will be answered.

Roxas sniffs, through Ventus can't remember seeing tears stream down his cheeks. "I'm not even sure I can remember what she looks like. It really feels like she's never been there, ever. Even when I asked older guild members, they give vague details. And now, when I try to remember her, all I see is blackness. I can't even conjure up even the simplest image."

"I'm sorry." Ventus repeats.

"It's not your fault." Roxas denies. "But appreciate your condolences."

Ventus slowly snakes his arms further across Roxas' shoulders and still Roxas doesn't shift. Ventus finally manages to half-hug Roxas and rests his chin on Roxas' shoulder. It may be his wishful thinking, but he feels Roxas slightly lean into him. Roxas sniffs and exhales heavily, and his shoulders relax.

* * *

Axel and Demyx leave a produce stall down in the lower region of the market. Demyx carries a couple of brown paper bags in his arms while Axel carries his in hands since they have handles.

"I hope Ventus likes these raisin cookies." Axel says as he peeks inside his bag.

"I know I don't." Demyx says.

"Why?"

"Raisin cookies that look like chocolate chip cookies, is the main reason I have trust issues."

Axel laughs as he and Demyx turn a corner and head up a slope towards the north end.

"Seriously though, I hope he likes them. I'm eager to see him try them when he gets back."

"_If_ he gets back." Demyx teases.

"Not. Funny."

Axel looks to the sky and reads it half past three o'clock. Roxas and Ventus have been gone for four hours now. A part of him knows they're okay, but still he worries.

"You know you've been acting strange around Ventus lately." Demyx says as he shrugs the bags for a more comfortable grip.

"What?"

"Don't 'what' me. You know what I'm talking about. Ever since we landed here, you've been . . . distracted." Demyx states.

"It's nothing."

"I don't know . . . you guys don't seem as 'bondy' as you used to be."

"Bondy?" Axel laughs.

"Yeah, you know. The way you bond?"

"You made that up."

"I did, but the point is it's true." Demyx retorts.

Axel shakes his head as they enter the square. They pass an old chapel when Axel suddenly stops. He nearly drops his bag when he looks at one of the massive columns holding up the marble architrave of the sharply slanted roof.

"Oh god." He murmurs.

"What?"

Demyx backtracks to see what Axel's staring at. Demyx's eyes widen and he has to regain a handle on his bags.

Taped to the column, printed on fresh parchment is a wanted poster. Artistically sketched on the poster is a nefarious man in black. His hood covers his head, bits of blonde hair poking out underneath, and a mask covers his face, leaving nothing but his blue eyes to pierce at anyone who dares to look at him, as if just by looking to him you will turn to stone. His hand pinches the mask over his nose, as if he is getting ready to pull it down, or he's pulling it up. His form blooms across the page with strokes of ink, adding touches of color to his eyes and hair.

But more attracting than the picture itself are the words written under it: Dead or Alive, as well as the massive reward enough to match up to the size of a King's ransom.

"Oh shit." Demyx says.

Axel takes a step back from the poster as if expecting it to detonate. Looking all around, both the men can spot more posters scattered around the marketplace on poplar businesses so that most people can see it.

"We need to find the boys." Axel commands.

"How? They're in the woods, remember?" Demyx reminds.

"We'll just have to wait for them to come back."

"_Where_?" Demyx emphasizes.

"Where are they most likely to go once they come back?" Axel quizzes.

Demyx thinks for a moment. "The butcher."

"Exactly. Come on!"

* * *

After he fur has dried and Roxas has successfully cleaned the meat, they walk back to the village with Ventus carrying the fur folded over his arms and Roxas carrying the meat in the bag on his back. They walk quietly, both with soft smiles on their faces. With their talk in the woods, Roxas seems, happier. He talked about a few more things, such as how his city has divided guilds, and their ranking in the city. Ventus thought that the confessions of his mother was enough for him and decided to change the topic then.

They enter the city and take the usual route around the market and towards a stall where a man sells sauces where Roxas suggested they trade the meat. As they walk, Ventus sees a few fabric stalls as well as a stall with pelts sprawled across it.

"Hey, should I trade the pelts there?" Ventus points. Roxas looks and nods his head.

"Sure but remember, this pelt is worth at least a hundred coin, especially for a male buck. Don't settle for anything less. Remember, you're selling this to him." Roxas reminds.

"Got it. Are you staying?" Ventus asks.

"Actually, if you're comfortable that man's stall is at least a handful of stalls down. We can meet there when you're done."

Ventus swallows. "Okay."

"You want to?" Roxas asks.

"No, no I'm fine." Ventus assures.

"Okay." Roxas says. "I'll be right down there." He points ahead towards the near center of the square.

As Roxas walks down the street, Ventus walks up to the stall, giving a small smile, but still appearing confident. Perhaps with his demeanor, the man will be willing to barter with his deal.

"What can I do for you, son?" the man smiles and asks.

Ventus gives a smile. "Hi, I'm here to trade this," Ventus takes the pelt off his arm. "If you interested."

The man rises from his stool seat and places his palm on the wooden table, leaning over the table to observe the pelt.

"Hmm, not bad. Seems like a male deer, a buck, I'd say about five years old. I can barely fine the hole from however you killed it."

"Thank you, so you want it?" Ventus asks with his tender eyes.

"What's your selling price?" the man asks.

Ventus is about to reply, when a hand grabs his shoulder.

He would've yelped if it weren't Axel whirling him around to face him. Ventus sighs in relief, but the look on Axel's face terrifies him.

"Ventus!" he exclaims. "Oh thank god."

"What? Axel, what are you talking about?"

"Where's Roxas?" he urgently asks.

Confused and worried, Ventus confides. "Uh, he's a few stalls down why -?"

"Demyx!" Axel yells and Ventus can see Demyx run up behind them, his face witnessing the same worry. "Check a few stalls down." Demyx nods and starts to run down the street.

"Axel what's going on?" Ventus asks scared. He fears that Roxas might've done something to another member of the crew, but if Axel's sending Demyx after him, something else is wrong. "You're freaking me out."

"Ventus we need to get out of here." Axel orders.

"What why?"

"Found him!" Demyx yells from his distance.

Both look and find Demyx hurrying Roxas, who has now traded his bag of meat for an overstuffed coin purse. He speed walks behind Demyx with a worried but stern look on his face.

"Good." Axel says.

"Axel! What is going on?!" Ventus demands.

"This is." As Roxas and Demyx approach Axel reaches inside his vest and pulls out a piece of parchment. He unrolls it ad shows it to the boys. Roxas and Ventus freeze as they set their eyes on the wanted poster.

"Oh no." Roxas mumbles.

"We need to leave. Now." Axel demands.

"What about the other men?" Roxas asks.

"Already at the ship." Demyx says. "They're waiting on us."

The boys nod and they quickly begin to walk their way towards the square that'll lead them to the docks.

Ventus sticks close to Roxas as they walk, trying not to grab attention. People don't seem to notice them, and they've made is passed the square. The docks are just in sight when Roxas starts to look around.

"Roxas?" Ventus whispers.

Roxas doesn't respond as he continually looks around.

"We're nearly there." Axel says as he places his hands on the small of the boys' backs.

Suddenly there's a small flicker of light and Roxas' head snaps up. Ventus is about to say his name when Roxas harshly shoves them to the ground screaming, "Look out!"

Just as the words leave his lips, an explosion blows them backward into the air.


	20. Chapter 19

It's as if in an instant, painted window shatters, revealing the ugly world behind it. Laughter changes to screams, blood stains cobblestones, and an acrid smoke darkens the sky. The impact of the hard-packed earth of the street knocks the wind out of Ventus. The ground shakes and Ventus can't hear anything at the moment. Ventus shields his face with his arms as pebbles rains down around them. Axel and Demyx tumble across the stone while Roxas managed to flip back from the momentum. As he flips, he managed to keep his eyes open and spots himself hurling to a brick wall. Drawing his daggers, Roxas harshly stabs them into the bricks, the daggers cracking the stone, and his feet managed to grip the wall with their leather soles. He grunts at the sudden sharp pain in his shoulder. His fingers lock like a vise, but he quickly looks around and drops to the ground.

He stays crouched down behind a row of stalls as people scream and run. Mothers hold their children and the men drag the wives and daughters to safety. Roxas considers staying hidden but rules it out at the sudden imminent danger Ventus is in. Roxas pulls his mask on along with his hood as he rises and charges from his spot.

After about a minute the ground stops vibrating. Through the thick smoke, Roxas tries to narrow his listening on the coughing. He carefully steps through the smoke until his toes bump into a coughing body. Roxas freezes but sees the long blonde hair in the back.

"Demyx!" Roxas yells. Demyx looks up, coughing and slightly smudged with dirt and scrapes. "Get off your ass and on your feet!" Roxas demands. He holds out a hand and Demyx accepts it hauling him to his feet.

"Where's Axel and Ventus?" he asks, his voice sounding dry and his throat is sandpaper.

"We'll find them, and we need to get Ventus out of here." Roxas orders. Demyx nods and draws his gun, a sword in another.

As the smoke clears, Roxas immediately recognizes Ventus' shape. He runs over and grabs the boy by the shoulders, resulting in him shrieking and trying to wrench away. Roxas keeps his grip ad turns the boy to face him. Ventus immediately calms and sighs.

"We need to get you out of here." Roxas calmly says. Ventus nods and pushes himself to his feet.

"Axel?" Ventus asks as he sees Demyx come up and pulls the boy's arm across his shoulder.

"Here."Axel says as he joins the circle of men. His forehead and arm have red scratches and he's holding his left arm, his pistol in his right hand.

As Ventus is about to say something, Roxas whirls around and suddenly smacks away an arrow heading for his head. Immediately after he shoots his gun and the bullet strikes a man donned in a studded animal armor. He grunts and holds his arm dropping to his knees. For a moment, Roxas gazes at him and know he's not in the guild with his studded armor. He has greasy hair that's long past his shoulders and pulled into a ponytail and stretches down into a beard around his chin. He carries a bow and arrow and a large battleaxe on his back.

Roxas pulls out a small black ball and slams it to the ground, erupting them in a plume of thick grey smoke, but this kind is less thick, making it easy to breathe and sheltering the group for a few seconds.

"You need to get Ventus to the ship." Roxas orders.

"What about you?" Demyx asks.

"I'll handle them."

"Not without my help." Axel says.

"I don't need it."

"I don't care."

"These men aren't part of the guild. They're brutes, mercenaries, and they are after _me_." Roxas snarls.

"Why must you challenge everyone?" Axel seethes.

"Because where I come from, that's how you survive! You're not going to risk your face just to help me when I don't need or want it. You will keep Ventus safe. You will get him to the ship!"

Axel is about to argue back when he clamps his mouth shut. Roxas is right. Ventus now needs protection, and Roxas can handle himself. "Alright." Axel grumbles. "Get to the ship as quick as you can."

"Count on it." Roxas watches them disappear into the smoke and Ventus giving one final look back before following Axel and Demyx.

Roxas steps out from the cloud of grey smoke and finds the man standing, holding his arm. He has two more at his side, dressed similarly with minor differences in weapons and style of their armor. One is completely bald with one blind eye, a scar trailing down it and he has two smaller axes clipped to his belt. The third is a woman with a half-shaved head and a sword and dagger in her hand. Still, they look dirt smudged, slicked with sweat and dirt on their faces. Roxas adjusts his cloak and mask, shrugging his shoulders and gripping his gun and dagger.

"Well, this is a surprise." The one holding his arm says. "I expected someone, taller."

"And I expected someone more competent." Roxas retorts, spinning his blade out.

"What was that?" The woman sneers.

"My point exactly."

"Hmmm, well at least the reward calls for you dead or alive." The bald man speaks, he draws his axes. "It'll be a pleasure to turn you in dead. There will be less talking from you!"

"You can try." Roxas dares. He sheathes his pistol and starts to notice a few people still outside, watching the showdown. With Roxas in his full uniform as displayed on the poster, he feels the guild part of him rise as he smiles and prepares to give the limited audience a show.

Roxas twiddles his hands and in a blink chucks twelve daggers to the three mercenaries. The daggers wink in the sunlight so the mercenaries try to block, but the dagger stick in places they can't block. They stick in thighs and forearms and Roxas switches weapons and pulls out his pistol. He shoots instantly and aims at the hearts of the bald and woman mercenary. They fumble back, holes appearing in their chests and forehead.

The bearded one looks back shocked and is met with Roxas' dagger. He manages to block in time, but Roxas weaves down and around and pulls out his pistol, shooting him in the side. Blood splashes on his face, but Roxas doesn't even flinch away. He lets the blood spot his face as he whirls back up and bringing his dagger to stab the man in the back of the head. He slumps to the ground and Roxas still stabs his back between the shoulder blades and then just below that.

The man drops in a pool of blood, and Roxas hears a ragged breathing, to find the woman gripping her shoulder. She turns on her side and reaches weakly for her knife. Roxas walks up and kicks the knife away and stands in front of the woman. He kneels down and grimly smiles.

"I would say you got your challenge, but I barely even broken a sweat." Roxas taunts. The woman grumbles and tries to push herself to her knees, but Roxas places his boot on her back and forces her back down. "You're really not smart enough to realize when you shouldn't challenge the son of a guild master."

"What?" She whispers.

Roxas smiles and pulls out his gun. He aims it at the woman's temple.

"No. No, please!" She begs. "I . . . I'm pregnant!"

Narrowing his eyes, Roxas doesn't believe her, but still he grins. "Excellent."

He pulls the trigger and the bang rings in his ears. Blood begins to pool out from under her head.

Roxas stands tall and addresses the numbers of people watching. "I am Roxas Skyes; son of Cloud Skyes of the Twilight Kingdom. You can try to hunt me, but you will only meet our own demise!"

Guards soon poor into the square and ready their weapons. "Drop your weapons!" One shouts.

They draw swords and Roxas looks all around. Blood is splattered on all of his clothes once again, and his mask as well.

"You're outnumbered! Drop your weapons and surrender!" the guard repeats.

In answer, Roxas swipes his leg up, kicking up the woman's dagger and spinning and chucking it at a guard, any one. Just as it lands in the chest of the guard off to the captain's left, Roxas pulls out his pistol and starts shooting. He precisely starts to rotate in a circle, shooting at all the guards. Those who manage to understand start to run and ducks behind barriers or begin to charge. Still Roxas turns and continues to pull the trigger, his hands barely flinching at the recoil of the gun.

As he finishes the circle, out of his peripherals he sees a guard coming to close for comfort. He swings a sword and Roxas ducks, jabbing the man with his fist before spinning and elbowing him in the stomach and then jabbing him in the nose. Roxas grabs the man by the neck and places the muzzle of the gun under the man's chin. Their eyes meet for a second before Roxas squeezes the trigger. The man's head is blown back and his blood arcs in the air.

Roxas continues to shoot until the remaining guards that try to slide and hide behind blocks are lying dead on the ground. Soon the gun begins to click and Roxas swears under his breath. Two guards see their chances and start to charge. Roxas thinks that something's jammed, and keeps trying to shoot the gun, only resulting in clicks. One guard goes to swing and Roxas does a gainer back handspring, drawing three daggers and throwing them at the guard. He blocks two and sidesteps out of the way of the third. In it all, Roxas had taken shelter behind a stall that sells pottery.

He fetches his next set of bullets and reloads like Axel taught him. He waits to hear the men shout or move again. Roxas leans to peek out from behind and sees other stalls knocked over, their contents spilled across the stones of the square. Roxas knows he has an advantage as the men only have swords. Roxas has a gun.

Roxas leans slightly out and narrows his eyes. He sees the shoulder of one of the shoulders poking out slightly from behind their barricade. Roxas clicks the bullet into place and aims the barrel out of the side. He squeezes the trigger and after the bang the guard grips his shoulder and falls out to the side. Roxas shoots again, this time in his head. He leaps out over his barricade and bolts forward through the center of the square. Guards rise and ready their weapons and Roxas shoots one shot to the left and right as distraction as he leaps into the air and flips over a toppled wooden table and sprints for the docks.

He soon hears the sound of pursuers behind him but doesn't look back. The people set up near out near the docks appear like nothing is wrong until Roxas comes barreling down the street with his black cloak flapping behind him. Women screech and dogs and cats hurry out of the way. On either side of him are group of giant homes, four stories tall, each one crams tight families barely able to scrape together a living.

"Cut him off!" the captain of the guard yells. As Roxas pumps his arms back and forth, his shoulder starts to throb as well as his ribs. Blocking out the pain, Roxas continues until he skids to a stop as a wall of guards suddenly run out in front of him. Roxas slides, and his ankle slips and he lands on his back. He heaves but snarls as they aim their swords at him.

"You're surrounded boy." One guard grins.

A shrill whistle rings out above them. A few of the guards look up, but see nothing.

Roxas, however, has much sharper eyes than they, and what he sees is the barest hint of a deep purple cloak leaping across a building. Roxas feels his heart race, and though it is a gamble, he has to take it.

Another whistle from above. Now all the guards look up, and a few see the purple cloaks. Roxas spins and kicks the legs out from one guard, windmills up and grabs his sword that falls out of his grip. Roxas then takes it and wedges it into the head of a second. There are two sharp whistles and Roxas feels a slight gasp escape his throat. Purple cloaks descend from the rooftops arrows shoot from windows. Death comes upon the guards swiftly and only the captain remains standing after the sudden assault, and a man steps from the alley, his face hidden by the hood of his cloak, but Roxas knows it's Xemnas.

Arrows whizz past Roxas' head, passing by the hairs of his ears and they land in the necks of the guard's behind him. Roxas smiles as out of his peripherals he sees another purple cloak, about a few inches taller than him steps up with him.

"You're a damn fool." Xemnas says to the captain. "This is _my_ city."

Xemnas steps out so he stands in front of Roxas, with the captain of the guard in front of him. Both of his lines of men that surrounded Roxas have been reduced to no one as their bodies lie on the pavement.

The captain draws his sword. "I'll have more men here." He states.

"Riku." Xemnas says, looking over his shoulder. The figure next to Roxas pulls back his hood revealing his pale skin and silver hair that brushes past his shoulders. His eyes are bright blue-green and he smirks. "Show our guest to the docks." Xemnas instructs. "And see to it he's shipped off properly."

"Yes father." Riku coolly replies.

Without another word, Xemnas slashes open the captain's throat, then quickly steps aside to avoid blood splattering across his clothes. A little stains his hands, but he wipes them clean on a cloth provided by one of his men.

As more guards approach, Riku taps Roxas' shoulders and suddenly the boys are sprinting down the streets, Riku taking the lead as he guides Roxas to the docks.

"Did I mention how good it was to see you?" Riku teases.

Roxas turns and smirks.

"Nice coating of blood."

"It's good for the complexion." Roxas smiles patting his cheek.

Behind them, villagers scream and guards shout orders to one another.

"You're just making friends all over aren't you?" Riku comments.

Roxas ignores him as they run. Riku is about two years older than Roxas, but still not as skilled as Roxas, though he does like to boast. They've never bothered to battle one another as they live in different kingdoms, but they've made a promise to should they visit the other's kingdom. Riku isn't exactly a friend like Vanitas, more like an acquaintance given their rivalry. Still they share a rather, dark sense of humor that only makes sense between the two of them.

The docks come into sight, the giant sails billowing out in the breeze. Roxas' heart starts to pump in his ears and he soon hears guards shouting behind him.

Roxas immediately grabs his gun and turns aiming it over his shoulder. He fires, one handed it's hard to grip the gun from the recoil, but Roxas takes two shots and the bullets land in flesh.

"Well that's new." Riku says, his eyes wide in surprise.

"I'm full of surprises, Riku." Roxas grins back.

With more guards after them, Riku look up and sees a wagon cart ahead. He draws his dirk sword and slashes at one of the wheels. The crate cracks and spills the melons across the street. Roxas looks back and sees several guards dodging them, but bumping into one another. Up ahead, Roxas can see Axel's ship is starting to pull away. He doesn't fear that they're leaving, but trying to get a lead since their commotion can be heard on the other side of town. Roxas immediately grabs his crossbow pistol and snatches a rope from a table with hunting supplies. He ties the rope at the end of the shaft just past above the fletching and loads it into the crossbow.

"How far can you throw?" Roxas yells as he clicks the arrow in place.

"Depends." Riku answers.

They near the pier and Roxas can see Ventus and Demyx standing at the edge, their faces flooded with worry. Axel is steering the wheel, constantly looking in Roxas' direction. Roxas carefully counts in his head as they reach the end of the pier.

"Hammer throw! Now!" Roxas screams.

Riku skirts to a stop and Roxas drops and slides down, grabbing Riku's wrist. Both keeping a viselike hold and keeping Roxas' momentum, Riku spins in a circle lifting Roxas up off the ground. After the third spin, both boys release and Roxas goes flying high into the air. The rush of wind causes Roxas' eyes to squint and forces tears into his eyes as he hurdles towards the ship. He can see the figures of the crew on the ship pumping their fists and yelling at Roxas.

He flips forward and shoots his crossbow. The arrow impales just above the crow's nest and the rope pulls taut, forcing a searing pain through Roxas' body. His eyes water uncontrollably from the pain in his shoulder. He just ripped whatever stitches he had holing his wound closed. His ribs feel like fire and it quickly starts to pulsate.

Swinging towards the ship, Roxas tries to keep a straight face, but the wind becomes stronger forcing him to close his eyes, and then when a shadow grows behind his closed eyelids. Roxas releases his grip on his crossbow.

"-ang on!" a voice shouts.

Roxas feels himself crash into a muscled body, his face pressing into the chest, arms wrapping around and they roll back across the hollow deck. They land where Roxas is atop whoever caught him, his head buried in the chest, eyes squeezed shut waiting for the world to catch up to his sight. He tightens his grip on the person's arms and then releases after another ten seconds. He feels them both shift and a hand caresses his hair and Roxas jerks his head to see the person is Axel.

"Whoa, are you okay?" he asks.

Roxas nods, his eyes locked on Axel's green ones. Up this close, Roxas can see that they have a little gold rimming around the pupil, their green reminding Roxas of a pine forest covered in dew drops. Roxas' fingers are curled in, resting on Axel's chest, and his legs in between Axel's. When he Roxas to brush his bangs out of his face, he finds his hands shaking.

Roxas clears his throat and pushes himself up off of Axel. "Uh . . . thanks."

Axel gets up on his own. "No problem."

"Whoa! Roxas that was awesome!" Demyx exclaims as he glomps his arms around Roxas' shoulders. Roxas bites his lip to keep from crying out, but a groan escapes him anyway, and Demyx yanks back.

"Oh, Roxas are you hurt?"

Roxas adjusts his shoulder and rotates it in circles. "If I had stitches, I'm pretty sure I ripped them."

"Let me see." Ventus says as he approaches. Meanwhile Roxas' crossbow comes down, tapping Demyx in the back of the head. He rubs his head and cuts the rope free.

Axel kicks over a crate and Roxas sits down as he shrugs off his cloak and tunic. Now that he is back on the ship, the adrenaline that propelled him is fading, and the pain is getting worse. Roxas ribs burn so bad he wants to jump into the frigid waters to cool them off, and now his shoulder throbs with the beat of his heart.

As Ventus peels back Roxas' tunic, Axel sees that he is coated in blood. It splatters across his tunic and small dots mimic freckles on his face. Demyx comes over and hands him a glass of water. Xigbar has taken the wheel, and already the town is a faint skyline on the horizon.

Ventus peels away Roxas blood soaked tunic and hisses through his teeth. "Whoooh." He breathes.

"What?" Demyx chirps as he leans in to see. "Oh my god, it's hideous!" Roxas peers over his shoulder and Demyx laughs. "Nah, it's not bad."

"You probably just saw your reflection in the blood." Roxas grins.

"Hey!"

"But you did rip your stitches." Ventus confirms.

"I didn't even know I had any." Roxas says as he tries to peek over his shoulder.

"How do your ribs feel?" Ventus asks.

"Like blazing charcoal." Roxas answers.

Ventus gets up and fetches a pail and rag, and after dipping it in, wrenches it out and begins to wipe away the fresh blood that seeped through the stitches.

"You know, I feel like the more we visit towns, the more of an impression we leave." Demyx jokes as he sits down near Roxas and Ventus.

"That's what we get for traveling with a thief." Zack says. He walks up, spinning a knife on the tip of his forefinger.

Roxas narrows his eyes. "How long have you been here?"

The men laugh and Axel smiles shaking his head. Zack cocks his head to the side as if trying to shake it off. "I've been here the whole time."

"How come I've never seen you?" Roxas says.

"You probably just never noticed." Ventus points out.

"Nobody ever does." Demyx whispers loudly, earning him a clobber across the head by Zack. Roxas chuckles as he feels Ventus start to press the wet rag against his ribs.

"But seriously," Demyx continues, leaning back. "We set out sailing so that we can find adventure. But then when you came on board, Roxas, it looks like adventure found us."

Roxas shrugs and smirks.

Behind him, Ventus sighs. "It's going to take a while for your wounds to heal now. I'll need to get Vexen to redo your stitches. Take off your shirt." Ventus says.

"Whoa! Ventus! Let's save that for the cabins!" Demyx jokes. Ventus blushes and Roxas shakes his head as the crew 't you ever learn to sit still and let your body heal?"

"Sitting steal makes me crazy. What I can say?"

"I think it's great. We haven't had this much fun since our younger years." Luxord says.

Ventus shakes his head and gets up, taking the pail below deck with him as he fetches Vexen.

"What does Vexen do all day?" Roxas asks. "I barely see him."

"Eh, he likes to sit below deck and work on crazy experiments." Luxord answers. "We're lucky he hasn't blown this ship to bits from what he concocts down there."

"The only benefit is that it keeps him away from us." says Zack.

"You guys don't like him?" Roxas says as he leans on elbow on his knee.

"Eh . . ." Demyx answers.

"He's a . . . unique individual." Luxord carefully words. "Axel picked him up when he picked up Marluxia."

Roxas looks over to the pink-haired man as he leans sits on a crate chatting with Xigbar. "What were they together?" Roxas asks.

"I don't know. Nobody knows. But if he was to end up on this ship, Axel told him he can't experiment on animals." Luxord says.

"Really?"

"Don't sound so surprised." Axel counters. "I just didn't want the ship to smell like roasted opossum and singed squirrel fur."

Roxas shrugs and shakes his head. "I don't care. You have your reasons."

Two pairs of footsteps come back up from below deck and Roxas looks and his heart jars in his chest. A man with platinum blonde hair and green eyes emerges from behind Ventus, listening to the boys as they approach Roxas and the group of men. Roxas shifts uncomfortably as Vexen and Ventus approach.

"You." Roxas mumbles.

"I'm surprised you remember me since your injection with the venom." Vexen says as he sets down the medical kit. "I'm not surprised you didn't realize you had stitches since our captain had the though slip his mind."

"Vexen." Axel warns.

Vexen holds up his hand and opens the kit. Roxas adjusts himself as Vexen's gloved hands touch near the wound. "My, you sure do like your scuffle." Vexen dabs Roxas' shoulder with antiseptic. "I'm going to have to give you a shot of this numbing agent." He says, holding up an ampoule and syringe.

Roxas doesn't even react. After feeling Vexen pat the spot dry, Roxas feels the sting and prickle of the needle, diminishing by the second as the numbing agent does its work. Ventus looks to him in surprise, and Roxas shrugs his shoulders.

"Okay, stitching time." Vexen says.

Roxas takes a deep breath keeps his gaze on a small ant crawling across the deck, since he can't seem to look at anything else. Ventus watches Vexen stitch Roxas' wound, and Axel looks to him in surprise. Ventus usually doesn't like blood and gore, and yet when it's applied to medical situations, he's completely unfazed.

"Wow, how can you two . . . now care?" Demyx asks.

"What?" Roxas questions.

"I mean, Roxas it's understandable with you, but you Ventus, you're just nonchalantly watching him when you can barely swing a blade at a man." Luxord adds.

Ventus glares and curls his lip in annoyance. "I'm growing up." he defends.

Vexen finishes stitching Roxas' wound, ties off the thread. He places a bandage over the stitches to protect the wound, and gathers all the wrappers and soaked cotton balls into his fists to throw away. He tosses them into the bucket and cleans his hand with another wet rag.

"Alright, that should do it." Vexen confirms.

"Thank you." Roxas says.

"Just try and keep them together this time."

"No promises."

Once the crew has settled into a calm routine on deck, Roxas and Ventus disappear into the cabin while Axel goes into the captain's quarters. Ventus takes Roxas to his room, for the first time.

Ventus' room, if according to Roxas' correct calculations, sits right beneath Axel's quarters. The room has a small chandelier on the ceiling as well as two lamps posted by the door. His cabin is decorated with colors of nature. Pale greens and browns trail all around the cabin. The windows were slanted like in Axel's quarters, and are thrown open; the breeze carrying the scent of the sea. Ventus has bookshelves lining the walls, thick with clusters of knick-knacks, jars filled with dried samples of flora and fauna and countless books of old and new. The antique furniture – consisting of a divan, and two armchairs – has embroidered pillows fluffed and carpets lining the floor as they surround a glass table. A dresser tucked away behind the bed that slinks along left wall. One enormous tapestry hangs next to it, depicting the image of a horse seemingly made of smoke rearing its head, eyes bugging, hooves pawing at the air. A patch of clouds lit by purple lightning rolled beside a tuft of white lilies, their heads dropping under crowns of raindrops. Black trees marked the center of the wall. Tall and pencil thin, their limbs tangled with one another to create a twisted net dotted with the limp bodies of shriveled leaves.

As Ventus goes over to his bed, having only one pillow but layers of quilts, Roxas notices a trunk poised at the foot of the bed. He can only assume it holds more books or possibly his clothes.

"Bigger than I imagined." Roxas admits.

"Same." Ventus admits. "I didn't think I'd get this room. I just thought I'd sleep with the rest of the crew."

"I just thought you slept with Axel." Roxas says as he gazes around. Ventus shoots him a look, but Roxas is distracted by the decoration, obviously implying it wasn't supposed to be in insult. So Ventus lets it go and folds his legs, pulling out a journal from underneath the bed.

"Mind if I look at your collection?" Roxas asks and Ventus looks up to see him by the bookshelves.

"Go for it." Ventus permits.

Roxas lets his fingers trail along the spines of the books before pulling out a mahogany colored book with a gold lining tracing around the cover. Roxas flips through it and finds it to be a logbook of various fish discovered in the ocean. It lists which ones have a poisonous bite, which is edible to eat and which ones can be used to barter in certain regions for high prices of value. Flipping through the book, the pages slapping one another, Roxas can tell each book has spent its time more opened than closed.

He's nearly finished browsing the first shelf when he notices a rather brightly colored book, its color a teal tone with delicate cursive on the front. Its picture is an intricate engraving of a beautiful woman, the artwork filling the entire cover. Black hair coils around the woman's head in thick, snakelike tendrils, intertwining with the length of her arms. It twists upward, too, writhing through the air above her as though caught in a gale. Her white hands clutch and pull at the swaths of gauze fabric that encases her, as though she is a moth straining to tear herself free from coils of cobwebs.

The lacelike curl of her lashes lay folded down, fringing closed lids, creating spidery shadows against her cheeks. Innately, Roxas knew the woman couldn't be sleeping. Her expression seems too intent and aware, as though she is gazing far into the future.

At the woman's feet, ghouls converge, a mess of sharp, tangled limbs and withered frames, of gaping hollow skull faces and howling mouths filled with serrated teeth. In the background of the etching, the craggy braches of pencil-thin trees pokes out from the decorative border that frames the picture. The hunched forms of inkblot birds dot their knotted boughs.

"Hey, what's this?" Roxas asks as he carries the book over to Ventus. Ventus looks up and his cheeks turn slightly pink.

"Oh, um . . ." he nervously clears his throat. He quietly mumbles, "That's my storybook."

"You're what?"

"I know, I know. I'm eighteen, but I still like rereading old fairytales and such -"

"No, no, no, I mean you're _what_?" Roxas repeats.

Ventus looks to Roxas. Ventus tilts his head to the side in curiosity as Roxas stands in front of the bed with the book in his hands, gazing at the cover with an almost scientific gaze. "My storybook. It's a book with fairytales in it. Stories of knights and princes battling dragons to save a sleeping princess; tales of magic and mythical creatures. . ."

Roxas shakes his head. Ventus' mouth drop open in shock. "Your parents would read them to you before bedtime . . .?"

Roxas shakes his head again with his lips pressed into a tight line.

"Oh, well they're interesting reads."

"I don't see how." Roxas ridicules as he sits down on the edge of the bed with the book now open to the middle, his one hand balancing the whole thing while his other flips through the pages. "What's the point of reading these to a child before their bedtime?"

Ventus shrugs. "I always thought it was so they could dream about the story, and put themselves in it. They could be there hero, or the wizard or the troll. And they usually have a happy ending so that makes the kid happy."

Roxas flips through the book and still gives it a stern, almost disapproving look.

"They're not bad, you know." Ventus says, resulting in Roxas looking up to him. "Some of them are actually very good reads. And you get to let your imagination run free in picturing the setting and how some characters look. It unleashes your imagination."

Roxas looks back down and slaps the book shut. He hands it to Ventus and says, "What's your favorite story?"

Ventus' eyebrows lift in surprise, but he takes the book and smiles. He sets the book in his lap, Roxas adjusting himself more onto the bed and tucking on foot under his leg. Ventus reopens the book and begins flipping through whole sections at a time, as though searching for a patient in a hospital obituary. The chunks of pages slap against one another until finally Ventus stops. The page he halts on depicts a single letter, a large and elaborate _L_.

Roxas' gaze follows the path of Ventus' spindly fingers as they slip to the top right-hand corner of the book, hooking the thin, almost filmy paper. This time, he turns each separate sheet slowly, the pages whispering against one another as they lift and settle into place once more.

As Ventus flips through, Roxas catches glimpses of strange symbols and squiggly characters interspersed between long sections of text. Ventus continues to turn page after page, past engravings and artist's renderings of dragons, past detailed diagrams depicting interlaced fingers and animals standing like humans and wearing human clothing, past human figures cloaked in robes and draped in armor – until he turns to one final page.

The picture shows a male lion with a mane that's the color of a soft red. His form takes up nearly all of the right hand side of the picture, as he gazes off up into the heavens. A ray of sunlight shines down upon a baboon holding a baby lion cub, which Roxas can only assume is the lion in his younger years. Beneath the lion is a bird with an orange beak and blue feathers, the underlying ones white. Then it's a meerkat sitting atop a warthog, and then another lion with a black mane, a scar across one eye and a devilish smile. He must be the villain. The entire picture is a muted orange and yellow like a sunset.

Roxas let his eyes shift to the text that fills the opposite page, right below the picture which reads "The Lion King" in swirling capital letters.

"The Lion King?" Roxas reads.

"Yeah," Ventus smiles. "It's a great read."

"What's it about?"

"It's about this young lion who ends up running away from home after he thinks he's responsible for the death of his father. He ends up growing up with this meerkat and warthog, and when he's all grown up, he reunites with a childhood friend who tells him he needs to come back home to defeat his uncle and save the kingdom."

"Well what ever happened to his father?"

"It turns out he was actually murdered by the uncle." Ventus smiles.

"What?!" Roxas' eyes widen.

"Yeah, and he tricked the son into thinking it was his fault. And he even send, like his minions, after to kill him." Ventus explains.

"Seriously? Wow."

Ventus giggles as Roxas tries to gaze at the picture and read a bit of the story. Ventus leans the book more towards Roxas and Roxas takes on half with his hand, the other in Ventus' hand.

"What else is in here?" Roxas smiles.

Ventus laughs and flips back to the beginning. for the next few hours until the sky has surrendered to the night, Ventus flips through the book, showing Roxas all the stories that he asks, and reading the start of a few to see his reaction if he's interested or not. It's quiet, absorbing work that lets Ventus see a childish side of Roxas as he looks at all the different pictures and pieces together the story in his head.

By midnight, they reach the docks of Hollow Bastion. Though this time the crew decides to stay on the ship for the night given the risk of Roxas' bounty spreading out to all the towns.

Roxas has retreated into the cabins of the crew, Ventus asleep in his bed as well as the rest of the crew. Ventus had given Roxas the book of the fairytale book to read and shortly after turned out the lanterns to go to bed.

Ventus rolls over on his side and breathes evenly as the moonlight leaks into the room, casting the panes across the floor and up the walls. A small sigh of air brushes against his cheek and Ventus' eyes flutter, stirring the ripple of darkness of his dreams. He snuggles down into his quilts and sighs. Then there's another breath and this time his eyes flutter open, squinting at the moonlight.

He lifts his head to glance around the cabin, and the room is silent. Ventus pushes up on his arms and groans. He rubs one eye and sniffs. "Axel?" he groggily calls.

The room is quiet except for the cracking of the wood and the gently rocking of the ship. As he looks around he thinks about calling out again.

Then a hand clamps over his mouth.

Ventus shrieks and immediately thrashes. Almost instantly a voice whispers by his ear. "Calm down!" it hisses. "It's me!"

Ventus' thoughts immediately spark, like a bolt of electricity shocks his brain. Whoever this is, they think he's Roxas.

Millions of questions run through Ventus' head. Who is he? How did he get on the ship? What is he trying to tell Roxas? When Ventus forces himself to relax, dropping his shoulders and stopping his pursuit of freedom, the hand slowly falls away.

"Jeez, your reflexes are getting slow." He chuckles. "I'm actually a little disappointed."

Ventus whirls around to find the face of a, rather beautiful boy. He has jet black hair that blends into the shadows around him. When he smiles, his teeth are white and rather, charming. His pale skin and ember eyes practically glow in the dark as he sits on Ventus' bed, donned in a grey cloak. He looks about Roxas' age, maybe a year older.

Ventus swallows down his hysteria and breathes heavily, trying to steady his heartbeat.

"Look, I don't have much time. But I need to tell you, your father sent out a wanted poster of you. He's doing it to try and get you away from the men or something I don't know. He thinks that with so many people after you, they'll deliver you back faster to the Twilight Kingdom." Vanitas explains. "He wants the captain dead, and I mean _dead_. I don't know how you feel about that, but I just needed to tell you so that you don't feel betrayed."

As he gazes around and out the window, Ventus' being a perfect perspective of the dock, Ventus stares at him in surprise, a chill running down his spin, and heart racing as he gazes at the beautiful boy in his bed.

"I've got go. Try not to get killed and I'll see you back at the town." Vanitas says.

With that Vanitas slips off the bed, nearly tipping Ventus over from his weight in compression. Ventus has to set a hand down to steady himself as he watches the boy head for the door. He places a hand on the frame and looks over his shoulder.

"I'll be at the old abandoned temple on the far side of town. Try to be there by noon." He smiles. "I'll see you there."

With that he slips through the door and the night sky suddenly seems too bright contrasted against his gray cloak.

Ventus sits in the bed, his heartbeat still rapidly beating and shock pulsing through his veins. He clutches his chest as all the information of what just happened. But all that he can register are small bits of information, working his way to the more complex parts.

A strange boy just visited him. He thought Ventus was Roxas. He told Ventus information. Cloud sent out the wanted posters. Cloud wants Roxas back.

Cloud wants Axel dead.

Ventus feels his eyes water as his emotions begin to catch up to him.

Roxas needs to meet his boy at a temple.

Axel is in danger.

Cloud wants Axel dead.


	21. Chapter 20

Roxas hops up the steps to the deck where a few men have already started to pop their collars and adjust the cuffs of their sleeves. Some even deciding to shave their beards and wash their faces.

The crew had docked in Hollow Bastion after they had left Atlantica with a not to discreet goodbye. They decided staying on the ship would be easier than walking through town to an inn. Many fear that the wanted posters have spread out throughout all the known kingdoms, and now Roxas is a wanted man. Not only him, but Ventus as well. Thankfully though, they only picture Roxas in his mask and hood, no known details have been released. But only after they had left did Roxas realize his stupidity in the loss of adrenaline and escape.

Now that he was possibly seen escaping to the ship, perhaps the ship will be targeted as well. Roxas can only hope that Xemnas and his men have kept the guards at a safe distance while Riku chucked Roxas towards the ship. So far, no guards have come to investigate.

Roxas walks across the deck and accepts a tankard of berry juice from Demyx. He sees Zack attempting to hoist a large net full of fish and Roxas briefly decides to aid him. Rules it out as Marluxia steps in before him.

"Wow. Thanks." Zack smiles.

"Well you looked pretty pathetic trying to do it yourself. I figured it's not worth having the men mock you even more." Marluxia retorts.

Zack shoots him a look and the pin haired man walks his way back over to Xigbar, who has been mopping the deck since the dawn.

"Knowing you, I thought you'd cut the net." Demyx comments, making Roxas realize he caught him staring.

"You don't know me." Roxas deeply says.

"What's your problem? Didn't get a goodnight sleep?"

"Nothing you need to be concerned about." Roxas snaps.

Demyx holds his hands up in submissions at Roxas' tone and quickly changes topics. "How's your shoulder?" Demyx asks as he takes a sip of his mug.

"Not bad." Roxas sips his tankard once more. "I think it's coming along well. As long as we don't run into any more trouble, I think it'll heal."

"Don't count on it. Now that that bounty has been put in place, I doubt we can go anywhere." Demyx denies.

"At least they don't know what I look like behind the mask." Roxas says.

Demyx can't get passed the edge in his voice, sharp as a blade. He assumes Roxas is mad about the wanted posters, seeing as how they've come along so suddenly, and the only ones who would start it would have to have been a witness, but Roxas doesn't lave witnesses. So it had to have been someone in his guild, or any of the other guilds. Perhaps his coldness that has now come back is a result of anger.

Roxas leans against the railing of the boat as Xigbar and another crewmen hoist the sails. It didn't hit him until after he'd gone to bed just how much he's screwed up. While the identity of the person who sent out the posters remains anonymous, Roxas analyzes just how big of an idiot he was.

After escaping the guards and showing he has "accomplices", as people will see it, Roxas has now put Axel's ship and crew in danger of being attacked by lowlives who want the reward for Roxas' capture. Not only that, but he's also placed Ventus right in the line of fire. Should something else happen and more vivid details are released about Roxas, Ventus could mistakenly be targeted and hurt for the bounty. And when wanted dead or alive it's hard whether one should cooperate, or fight for their survival.

This is exactly why Roxas should've listened to himself and his father's teachings. He tried to get close to someone, and now he's placed them in danger that he can't control unless he murders every last person. Roxas tightens his grip on the tankard and then gulps the entire thing down. Slamming the tankard on the hood of a barrel, Roxas wipes his mouth and starts to head down below deck for ready for going into town. Now that he's been declared a wanted man and now knowing how well the guards can be paid off, Roxas can't risk being spotted. Even if he did, it would be a thrill. And now it would seem that he can't be so brooding. He'll have to act weak, innocent.

He'll have to act like Ventus.

Roxas growls and stops, slamming his fist into the side of the wall, rattling the lantern above him. Just when he thought he has organized their differences, Roxas has to undergo a transformation and portray as a weak and unexperienced boy. This is punishment enough.

"Roxas." He hears his name called.

Roxas looks up and finds Ventus standing at the end of the hall. He wears the same bed clothing as Roxas last saw him. Immediately Roxas knows something it wrong. Ventus seems pale and his eyes suggest he hasn't had much sleep through the night. Roxas assumes it's because of the commotion brought on by the wanted posters, but something about the way Ventus sways back and forth suggests something more personal. He curls into himself and holds the collar of his shirt around his neck, as if to hide himself. A simple defense mechanism of someone who has a secret.

Roxas straightens up and approaches Ventus. "Ventus? What's wrong?"

"Come inside." Ventus says.

Roxas doesn't argue as he steps back into Ventus' cabin. He shuts the door behind him and glances around the cabin to see signs of a struggle or indications of an assault. Nothing seems out of place besides the messy bed sheets.

Ventus nervously fidgets with his fingers as he properly sits on the edge of the bed. He sits with his legs together and back straight, unlike Roxas expectations of sitting fully on the bed with legs crossed, perhaps even a pillow in his lap.

"If we're going to be friends, we're going to have to be honest with each other." He states.

Something's got him on edge.

"Ventus, what's wrong?" Roxas asks. He stands over Ventus, and the boy looks ready to cry. Roxas can't help but compare the situation to how a child would act when they realize their parents have seen through their rouse and is now going to receive punishment for lying.

Ventus remains quiet and lowers his head to gaze at his toes which curl and tap the floor. It doesn't help that Roxas is irritable as it is from a bad night of sleep due to his shoulder wound, making him not in the mood for childish nonsense. Roxas sighs and readies to ask again when Ventus speaks up.

"This boy . . ." he starts. "came to see me last night."

"What? Who?" Roxas asks, making a face, as though the words didn't taste right in his mouth.

"Someone _I_ didn't know," Ventus swallows a gulp of air. "but someone _you_ might."

"Who was it?!" Roxas states as he narrows his eyes. Ventus shakes his head. "Ventus you don't understand, this is serious shit! If you don't tell me who it was you saw, you're only digging your own grave!"

Roxas is doing everything wrong. He doesn't know why, but he feels so angry. Ventus has been scared out of his wits. Roxas doesn't even know what's happened to him. Something traumatic could've just happened and here Roxas is yelling at him. But Roxas doesn't care. If someone from his guild contacted Ventus, it's only his looks that spared him. Next time he won't be so lucky.

Ventus folds his lips in and stifles a sob. Roxas can sense Ventus' growing apprehension. He feels the nervous tension radiating from the boy's tiny frame, as palpable as an electric current.

Roxas takes a deep breath and fists his hands. Normally he would've grabbed Ventus by the shoulders and wrench him to his feet, screaming. But Ventus is soft, he needs to be cuddled like a child.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Roxas exhales heavily. "Okay, Ventus, did he do anything to you?"

Ventus seems more relaxed at Roxas calmer voice. Ventus shakes his head no. Roxas takes one of the armchairs and hauls it over to sit in front of Ventus. Roxas sits and leans forward.

"Okay, did he threaten you?" Roxas interrogates.

"No." Ventus chokes out. He gulps down air and wipes his nose. Roxas realizes his eyes are a little red. "He . . . he said he that, your father sent out the wanted posters."

"What?!" Roxas quickly claps his mouth shut when his voice rises. He tries to hold himself back. "What, why would he do that?"

"He said it was to try and get you away from the Axel and the crew." Ventus continues. Suddenly his words are there, trampling over one another to get out before he loses himself to his emotion. "He said that it'll help deliver you back to Twilight faster."

"Shit." Roxas swears. He says the word three more times as he gets up from his seat and starts pacing the floor.

"Roxas," Ventus whimpers. Roxas turns to find the boy's eyes watery with tears. Roxas quickly walks back over to the boy and kneels in front of him. Roxas has watched enough women in his marketplace to know how to at least, display comfort. He takes Ventus' hands in his own and gently strokes the skin of Ventus' thumb. This seems to calm Ventus more in the way that he starts to tears up excessively, feeling more comfortable and allowed to cry. "He said that, Cloud wants Axel dead."

Roxas becomes a little pale, and when he speaks his words are slow, his voice laden with such dead seriousness that it sends shivers down Ventus' spine. "Ventus, did he say that Cloud knows, exactly who Axel is?" Roxas asks.

Ventus shakes his head no again. He wipes his nose with his hand. "It sounded like he knew _of_ him, but not know him, like personally. And he said that he'll be waiting for you at an old abandoned temple on the far side of town." Ventus repeats.

"Okay." Roxas sighs with relief. "So, what did he look like? The guy that came in?"

The simplicity of the question surprises Ventus. He thinks about it for a moment, once again envisioning the man who appeared to him last night. Luminous by the moonlight, his cloak was a swath of grey and his eyes a burning ember like a polished yellow topaz.

"He was . . . well, he was beautiful," Ventus admits. A soft laugh escapes his lips. "And at first, that's all I could think when I saw him. He had white skin, very pale. Not like marble, but iris. And thick, spiky, jet black hair." As Ventus speaks, he traces his fingers through the air around his own head, his fingers rippling to add the effect of the uneven yet still neatly groomed spikes. "He wore a dark grey cloak that wound down to his feet. And his eyes . . ." Ventus shakes his head. "They were like golden, almost."

"Shit." Roxas whispers. "Vanitas." His face white.

Ventus' mouth pops open in shock.

Quickly Roxas stands. Dashing towards the door, he throws it open and darts out.

"Roxas!" Ventus leaps to his feet. He rushes out of his room, only to find Roxas already hallways down the hall. He wasn't running, but speedwalking urgently to get above deck. "Roxas, wait!" Ventus calls.

Roxas glances over his shoulder but keeps walking to the steps to above deck. Ventus follows, resisting his urge to stop and let Roxas go. He follows after, quickly rushing towards him, his toe nearly catching on the last step.

Ventus quickly rushes Roxas, grabbing his one shoulder and turns Roxas to face him. Before he can speak, Roxas wrenches his shoulder free and grabs Ventus' arm. It's not harsh, just a squeeze to get Ventus to halt.

"Listen to me." Roxas seethes. "You need to stay on this ship."

"Where are you going?" Ventus asks.

"Where I'm supposed to go."

"Alone?"

"How else?"

"Roxas you can't! What if it's a trap?" Ventus pleads.

"It's not." Roxas' eyes are calm, but a controlled anger and curiosity still seem beneath it like lava. "I know this guy."

"Okay, if you do then what's so bad about him? Is he crazy?" Ventus asks.

"No, but if Trouble had a gateway leading to it, he'd be the keeper. Stay on this ship, and away from him." Roxas orders. He releases Ventus and says, "I'll be back."

"Well, what about the posters?" Ventus reminds.

"I'll be fine. I'll keep my hood down. Plus that way Vanitas can spot me better." Roxas weirdly smiles. "I'll be back."

"Roxas-!"

But Roxas is already down the bridge and speed walking his way up the steps and to the marketplace.

"Ventus!" Axel calls, startling the boy. Ventus whirls around to see the captain approaching. "What happened?"

"Uh . . ." Ventus swallows a gulp as the crew's slowly follow the captain to Ventus. A deep blush permeating his cheeks. "Roxas, just went into town."

"What? For what?" Axel asks as he looks over the bridge, about ready to charge after him.

Ventus stops him with two hands on Axel' one wrist. "Wait! Axel's he's fine. He's just going to get supplies."

"But what about the posters?" Axel asks.

"He'll keep his hood down. No one knows what he really looks like, and if he's in danger, he'll come back and we'll leave."

"Right. Because we always leave before we get the danger." Demyx chimes as she walks by with a tankard in one hand.

"I'm going to go after him." Axel states, pulling away from Ventus.

"Axel I'm sure he's fine." Ventus defends.

"I don't care. I just need to make sure he's okay."

"Or you don't trust him, completely." Xigbar chimes in.

"Somebody ask your opinion?" Axel quickly snaps.

"Axel, you don't have to go." Ventus says as he tugs at Axel's sleeve.

"I know, but I just need to make sure he's okay."

"He can take care of himself, Axel. You know that." Ventus says.

Axel stops and looks to the boy, his eyebrows narrowing in suspicion. Ventus releases his sleeve and takes a timid step back. Axel sighs and lifts his hat, running his finger through his hair. "I'll give him an hour. That's it. If he's not back by them, I'm going into town to find him."

Ventus sighs in relief. "Fair enough."

"Which raises the observation, you two seem to be getting along well." Axel comments.

Ventus shrugs. "Since he took me hunting, he doesn't seem to be too irritated by my presence."

This manages to make Axel chuckle and relaxes his shoulders. He sighs and decides to head back up the three steps to his cabin, he leaves the door propped open. Ventus sighs and looks towards where Roxas had walked off. He feels a hand slap his shoulder and Ventus turns and finds Demyx smiling, and Ventus rubs his shoulder.

"Don't worry. Like you said, he's fine. He'll be back in time." Demyx says.

"Yeah, I guess."

"You feel like going?" Demyx asks.

"No, no I'm fine." Ventus denies. He turns and tucks a few strands of hair behind his ears. "I'll be in my cabin. Let me know when he gets back."

Roxas walks through the streets of Hollow Bastion, feeling a little on edge. With his hood down he feels more exposed than when he would if it was up. Still, his cloak has the holographic emblem of his guild, and even if Hollow Bastion doesn't have a guild, Roxas still lets his pride show as he looks left and right for the temple. Looking up at the sun, it was about nine in the morning so the sun wasn't even past up over the tips of the buildings. All the while, Charlie soars over him, giving a caw every three minutes.

Given he has no immediate direction of where the temple was, Roxas stops by a jewelers shop and asks the man behind the counter where there would be an abandoned temple. He says that the temple he was looking for is just down the street past a large fountain at the center of a square. He tells Roxas that it's been shut down for centuries, and is boarded up and poorly reconstructed so it shouldn't be hard to find. Continuing down the street, Roxas looks on his left and right for any signs of the temple.

Finally it comes up on his right hand side. The man who described really did make an understatement. The temple has been stripped of all its valuables, the double doors boarded shut. Planked by palmetto and cypress trees, it looks like it could have been the king of place where people sit on the porch drinking mint juleps and playing cards all day. Huge white Doric pillars, paint peeling from years of neglect, supports a roof that slopes too sharply to one side, giving the impression that the temple is leaning over like an arthritic old woman. The windows are covered in vines a debris, making it impossible to see inside. The covered porch is splintered and falling away from the house, threatening to collapse if one dares to set as much as a foot on it. Thick ivy grows so densely over the exterior walls that in some places it is impossible to see the windows underneath. As if grounds have swallowed up the house temple itself, trying to take it back down into the very dirt it has been built upon.

There's an overlapping lintel, the part of the mean that lies over the door of some really old buildings. Roxas can see some sort of carving in the lintel. Symbols. They look like circles and diamonds, maybe shadowmarks left by previous, or still residing guilds. Roxas takes a tentative step onto a groaning stair so he can get a closer look. They're more like hieroglyphs, surrounding what looks like a single word, in a language Roxas doesn't recognize. It has probably meaning to the generations of priests and priestesses who lived here before the place was falling apart.

Roxas takes a breath and vaults up the rest of the porch steps, two at a time. He figures his odds of not falling through them by fifty percent if he only lands on half of them. Immediately as he reaches for the brass ring, Roxas pushes open the calcified iron door handle.

Light floods through the windows, which seems impossible considering the windows on the outside of the temple are completely covered in vines and debris. Yet, inside it is light, bright and filled with antebellum heirlooms.

Vanitas walks down the aisle, looking all around at the massive expanse of the high vaulted ceiling. His cloak whispers along the runner as he shrugs it around his shoulders.

Where there had been painted glass are now thick boards with even thick nails. Where there had once been rows of benches are now splinters with ruts in the floor. The entire place stinks of feces and urine. Cobwebs decorate the corners and crevices of the buildings, the sound of scurrying rats around, one having the courage to run right across Vanitas' toe. His footsteps echo on the faded red rug, though with the room empty the acoustics are amplified incredibly.

There's a sudden soft scuffle across the floor, and the creaking of the wooden banisters along the ceiling. Vanitas stops his walking and barely glances over his shoulder. He continues towards the alter where a dusty podium awaits.

Then at the last second, he draws his dagger and whirls around, only to find nothing behind him.

That's when a fist strikes him, smashing into his temple, followed by a swift kick to his groin. As he stagers to one knee, he can't help but smile. Another punch strikes his nose and when he tries to grab for the wrist, fingers wrap around his own and he's harshly twisted downward, wincing as the bones of his arm protests in pain and his spins slaps into the rug.

"Should've gone for a plank Vanitas, it's a lot more weight." Roxas seethes.

Vanitas opens his eyes, his breathing already slightly heavy and finds Roxas sitting on his stomach, his feet positioned by Vanitas' head. His one hand grips across Vanitas' chin and the tip of his dagger pointed on the Adam's apple of his neck.

Vanitas snickers. "Nice to see you too, Roxas."

He carefully angles his head around Roxas' dagger to find the boys snarling down at him, Roxas cloak covering the entire lower half of Vanitas' body. Vanitas cheekily smiles again as he waggles his eyebrows, earning a small smile and roll of eyes from Roxas. Lifting his blade from Vanitas' throat, Roxas spins it before sheathing it and rises to stand, extending out a hand to him.

Vanitas takes with a clearing of his throat. "I should've known you wouldn't let me live down that night scare I gave you."

"Night sca-?" Roxas hoists Vanitas to his feet, looking at him with a questionable look. "Oh!" Roxas facepalms himself, rubbing his forehead.

Vanitas smiles as he dusts off his pants.

"Listen, that wasn't me." Roxas says. Vanitas looks up to him with a confused look.

"What?" he slouches his shoulders and gives Roxas a look of annoyance. "Oh come on, seriously? Now you're just denying it."

"No, I'm serious it wasn't me."

"Yeesh, I get on step ahead of you and instantly denied it? Jeez, is your pride that thick to you?" Vanitas shakes his head.

"It wasn't me! _You're_ really the stupid one if you think that was me." Roxas says.

Vanitas glares at Roxas, but then softens when he sees Roxas' eyebrows furrowed, but still no real signs of fear or anger.

"Well, then what . . ." Vanitas motions with a thumb over his shoulder.

"It was someone who looked like me."

Vanitas stares at him for a moment, then a smile creeps on his lips, then a laugh escapes his lips. "Oh, oh the poor kid. I probably scared the shit out of him."

Roxas shakes his head, but smiles and laughs along a little. "Yeah, he . . . he looked pretty shaken up. I'm surprised he didn't smack me in the face and run to the captain with his tail between his legs."

Vanitas laughs more, clapping his hands as Roxas takes two steps forward. Vanitas turns and sees a burlap sack slung across his back. His eyes flick from the bag to Roxas.

"We've got a lot more catching up to do."

They explore the temple until the find a hidden staircase tucked away in the corner that leads to the attic. The ceiling is a long loft area with only one window at the very end of the stretch. There's a hole in the ceiling where the boards have snapped, leaving the open sky beckoning to them.

Roxas gathers dried cloth and small twigs scattered about to start a small roasting fire. Positioning it under the small hole, Vanitas easily starts hoping its small size will minimize the smoke. Roxas drops the bag and opens it, revealing food and a couple flasks of tea. Vanitas' eyes raise in surprise, and Roxas sits down cross-legged, placing the bag in his lap.

"Did you get my note?" Roxas asks as he slowly unpacks it.

Vanitas sits down across from him, same position only his posture is more relaxed, hunched over, elbows on his thighs. "I did. And thank you."

"You're welcome."

"So, even with that, you still have more to tell me?" Vanitas asks as he extends out his hand. Roxas hands him a loaf of bread.

"Yes." Roxas answers.

Roxas decides to begin with the night he and his father were planning on ambushing the King at his mansion, and how a riot had started down south in the marketplace. Roxas tells Vanitas about how he had stumbled onto the ship as accidental cargo, fought against their captain only to wind up being held captive, breaking free and striking a deal with the crew, discovering his unknown identical doppelganger, the fight and intoxication with the mermaids; Vanitas pointing out Roxas' impressive bite mark on his neck, then about the note sent by his father and Roxas' backhand to the crew about selling Axel's head to his father.

Vanitas never interrupts. Charlie flies in through the hole and flutters onto Vanitas' shoulder; Vanitas feeding him a grape. While Roxas talks, both of them occupy themselves with turning the food in the leather bag into a meal for them both. Vanitas toasts bread and cheese over and core apples while Roxas places chestnuts in it to roast. As he speaks, Roxas starts to zone out as he tells his story, yet he does everything perfectly; Vanitas nearly expected Roxas to burn himself. Roxas focuses on Vanitas hands, his beautiful capable fingers. Scarred, as Roxas' and strong and deft. Hands that have the power to kill and the precision to fire a delicate shot. Hands Roxas trusts.

Axel's are more long and delicate, but still have wan through years of sea life.

Roxas stops to take a drink of tea from the flask. Vanitas hands him a piece of bread and Roxas accepts it.

"So, just to recap: You accidentally get held captive on a ship of, pirates. But manage to strike a deal with them saying that if they return you home, they will be heavily rewarded, when really, they're just going to die." Roxas nods, keeping his gaze on the fire. "Okay, then what's the problem?"

Roxas' shoulders sag and he sniffs.

"You're having regrets?" Vanitas words for him.

"I think so." Roxas admits.

"Why? Are they starting to make you soft?" Vanitas asks. Roxas expects it to be like a joke, but when he goes to glare at Vanitas, he's serious. Roxas drops his gaze to the fire once again and says nothing.

"I've said enough for the moment. Let's skip ahead to why you're here, all the way from Destiny Isles." Roxas says.

Vanitas takes a deep breath. "I came here because I needed to tell you, that your father was the one who sent out those wanted posters." Roxas' eyes widen and Vanitas can see he's caught off guard.

"How do you -"

"I overheard a few thieves down by the black market. They said something about how the bounty will be enough to drive any man, thief or noble to hunt you down. One of them, I think he might've been someone from your group, he said that the purpose was to try and pry you away from the pirates. With everyone out after you, you would be separated from the crew, maybe the crew would get killed in the process. Then you would be returned home, and Cloud would end up killing them. Problem solved." Vanitas explains.

Roxas scoffs in disgust at his father's actions. He hasn't made it easier, he's made it more difficult for Roxas to stay alive. With every thief, lowlife and guard after him for the impossibly large reward, Roxas will have to battle practically everyone to fight for his survival. In fact, it's almost like he has to rely on the crew now because he knows they're already promised it. They're the only ones he can trust since they won't kill him.

"Well then why didn't he say: Wanted _Alive_?" Roxas growls.

"I don't know, he's your father."

Roxas groans and rubs his eyes. "Okay, then how did you get here?" Roxas asks.

"I flew." Vanitas says as Charlie flaps his wings. Roxas glares. "How do you think I got here? I took a ship. I stopped in probably three towns before I made it here."

"How did you know where I'd be?"

"I navigated from your stop to my town and then started through the closet kingdoms to your hometown." Vanitas turns back to the fire, where the chestnuts are beginning to burn. He flips them out onto the plate.

Roxas huffs in mockery. "Well done."

"I am capable you know."

"I never said you weren't."

Charlie hops off of Vanitas and walks pigeon-toed to Roxas, hopping up on his thigh. Roxas scratches his neck feathers and Charlie turns his head to the right spot. "Well what about you then?" Vanitas asks. "If you're so eager to get home, but afraid to have them killed, why not just reason with your father?"

"I don't know if he can be reasoned with at this stage. Now that he knows I've given approval of their execution, I don't think he'll want to withdraw the agreement."

"Maybe, if you use proper reason." Vanitas says.

Roxas thinks about their events that have le dup to this point, and realizes Vanitas might be right. Axel truly did save Roxas' life, after he was comatose from the venom and set into a medically induced coma, Axel stayed by him and nursed him to health. Even if it was for his own benefit, he still didn't have to. Otherwise they'd be home by now, probably dead even. Maybe, just maybe, Roxas can convince his father to relief Axel of his punishment.

"He'll understand, Roxas. You know he loves and misses you. He won't say no to you." says Vanitas.

"I hope not."

"Roxas," Vanitas whispers, and Roxas curls into himself as he recognizes it as Vanitas' cooing voice, and Roxas doesn't like being comforted much as it coverts with him being weak and in need of help. "It's not that bad a thing if you actually care, about this crew."

Roxas is silent as he shifts his position, pulling his legs to his chest and wrapping his arms around his knees.

"I understand. You're an assassin. The son of Cloud. You're not supposed to have feelings of sadness or vulnerability-"

"You don't know what I feel." Roxas denies.

"Don't I?" Vanitas immediately counters.

"How can you possibly know what I feel if I can't even figure it out myself?"

"Because I've seen it before. It's obvious you care about this crew, whether it's one person or all of them, either way, you care. And you're too scared to admit it in fear of looking vulnerable. And for what? Just so you can preserve your father's picture perfect vision of you?"

"You don't understand the sacrifices and work he put into making me perfect!" Roxas' voice rise sin anger.

"Roxas, no one, is perfect" Vanitas replies austerely. "You may think you are, but you're not. You know what's happening, but are too scared to explore more into it!"

"Then maybe you can tell me!" Roxas challenges.

"You're experiencing, _friendship_. Caring, compassion. You're seeing someone who has more to them than daggers and poisons."

"Friendship is for fools." Roxas coldly replies. "They can only be used to hurt you."

"Then what does that make me?"

"It's different with you."

"I fail to see that difference."

"You're a part of this life, Vanitas! You know how it is. You can't trust anyone!" Roxas yells.

"If you didn't want any of this, then you wouldn't have dropped your guard, so it would seem." Vanitas replies with a placid expression.

Roxas heaves a few breathes and then screams, frustrated. He startles Charlie, who caws and then flies out through the whole and into the outside world.

Roxas sits cross-legged and sets his elbows to his knees, head braced between his hands, looking on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

"Roxas, just tell me what you're feeling. I'm here to listen. I'm a friend too, you know." Vanitas says. When Roxas lifts his head, Vanitas swallows as he sees Roxas' eyes glassy with tears. He must not feel them otherwise he wouldn't even look up.

"It's the shipmate who looks like me, Ventus. He's . . . so young. Innocent." Roxas starts. "It's . . . weird. A little more than a week ago now, I had killed the daughter of a powerful sorcerer loyal to the king. She was no older than I was. And when I did it, as well as every other person I had ever slain with my blade, I felt, at peace."

Roxas pauses as he lets the words sink in Vanitas' mind.

"See from the moment I was born, there's always been one thing I wanted, and feared, but you can't tell my father."

"Roxas, this is a temple, a place of confession. Nothing will leave these walls."

"I always wanted to know what it is like to be my father. I always wanted, expected, to grow up and become him. And I knew, so I . . . I was happy." Roxas says, his voice starting to quake. "But now, the thought of my father or any other man harming Ventus makes me, angry. I don't know if it's because I wanted his death to be my doing or . . . what. I just hate it. I've tried to keep my guard up, but something inside me yearns to know these men. They seem happier than I am. And I wonder, how? They don't have power, riches, anyone under their thumb in fear. How? How could they be happier than me? And then there's Ventus. What makes him so special?"

"It's because you finally have someone else who's willing to listen to you. Hear what it is you have to say, and not ridicule you for your thoughts or feelings." Vanitas says. "You can get it off your chest and let it go."

"But how could this changer have happened so quickly? My father spent years trying to make me into his image, and in a matter of days, it's gone. Useless. I can't do that to him." Roxas says.

"Live can change, Roxas. Whether in days or seconds, it changes. You can either go against it, or roll with it, and use it to your advantage."

"Roxas chuckles. "I thought I was doing that when I promised them a reward and tried earning their trust. But it would seem that I've lost myself in my own plan."

"If you're so eager to save him, try talking to your father." Vanitas repeats.

Roxas shakes his head.

"You've got to at least try." Vanitas softly replies.

Roxas looks up and furrows his eyes in an innocent notion. The motion so alien to Roxas that Vanitas actually feels a little frightened. Mere moments ago Roxas was on top of him, ready to slice his throat with his dagger.

Roxas can't deny that he feels better. In fact he found himself happy at Vanitas' prying. It helped him to discover a feeling that he's wanted since he was a child. Love, and understanding. But his father has worked years in making Roxas cold and ruthless. Everything an assassin should be. Roxas feels ashamed, yet confused. He can't deny his father of his hard work. And yet he doesn't want the crew dead. Perhaps he'll take Vanitas' advice for now.

"I'm glad you're here." Roxas admits.

Vanitas nods and gives a gentle smile. Still with Roxas with his head braced between his hands, Vanitas can't help but feel sorry for him. Before he realizes it, Vanitas is up on his feet and walking over to Roxas, kneeling down beside him. He wraps his arms around Roxas' shoulders, and to his surprise, Roxas allows him to, even leaning slightly into Vanitas neck. Vanitas smells of citrus fruit and soap.

Roxas closes his eyes and sighs. If anything, it might've helped him a little. At least get him to realize his certain feelings. Still a part of hi is denying it.

He slowly starts to stiffen as he feel Vanitas' hand cup his head. His heart triples in beats as he feels Vanitas forehead rest above his ear. Then his lips gently pucker and kiss just above Roxas' ear.


	22. Chapter 21

It's weird.

Roxas has lived years without any form of intimate connection or notion with anyone, but still has a, encyclopedic knowledge of it. But still, it means nothing compared to how it _feels_. Is it as magical as Roxas hears the girls of his village squeal over?

Before he could give his muscles the consent, Roxas turns his head more towards Vanitas, and feels his lips brush against his forehead, and then they kiss Roxas' forehead, just between a few of his bangs. Still with his eyes closed, Roxas can picture where Vanitas' eyes are in the blackness.

Kissing requires a total of thirty-four facial muscles and one hundred twelve postural muscles. The most important muscle involved is the orbicularis oris muscle; because it's used to pucker the lips.

Vanitas moves on his own, this time touching his lips right between Roxas' eyebrows. Roxas doesn't understand this, whatever it is. Yet he doesn't want to ruin it so he says nothing. None of them move, they just stay like this with Vanitas' arms wrapped around Roxas and his lips on Roxas' skin.

Then Roxas shifts, blindly angling his head upwards. And he feels his lips brush against Vanitas'. Roxas tenses up at first, not sure what to do with himself; but he involuntarily gasps. He just feels Vanitas' lips touch his, before he pulls away in a second. Roxas opens his eyes and sees Vanitas looking at him with gentle eyes, but a bewildered expression. He swallows and then quietly clears his throat.

"Sorry." He whispers.

"For what?" Roxas replies.

Vanitas looks to Roxas and chuckles. He rises to stand and stretches his limbs. "Alright, well I'd better get going."

"Wait!" Roxas says grabbing Vanitas' hand. "Where are you going?"

"Don't worry I'm just heading back to the inn I'm staying at." Vanitas says.

"Are you going to be around?" Roxas asks, still holding Vanitas' hand. For some reason, Roxas doesn't want him to leave. He always prided himself in being a loner, but now, after what had just happened and then the near . . . lip contact Roxas doesn't want him to go for the uneasiness of being alone.

"I might. I'll have to see. I mean, I can't really travel with you -"

"I could ask Axel." Roxas cuts him off.

"Who? The captain?" Roxas nods. Vanitas smiles and shakes his head. "You don't have to do that. I'll be fine."

Roxas' expression slowly drops and his hold loosens on Vanitas. "I'll be at the Moogle Inn if you need me or decide to leave." He says. And then he's gone in a whisper of his cloak.

Roxas turns back and stares down at the fire, crackling and then popping and snapping a log in half. After another ten minutes of sitting by the fire with his arm wrapped around his knees, Roxas gets up stretches his limbs and stomp out the fire. Exiting the temple, he finds the sky has turned rosy. He had been talking with Vanitas for longer than had anticipated.

He hopes that Ventus is holding down the fort enough back at the ship, and with his mind still fairly clustered with the conversation with Vanitas, Roxas resorts to strolling around the market to try and clear his thoughts.

Walking around the street, Roxas keeps his hood down and glances at all of the wares that Hollow Bastion has to offer, including an accessory shop and a leather maker selling sheathes and gloves and jackets and boots. Roxas keeps his gaze ahead, letting his vision double as he drifts off.

Doing what Vanitas said, Roxas rakes through his thoughts and tries to sort them out like the files of a folder in a library. Vanitas is now, officially his friend. Despite how much it pains Roxas to admit it, he cares about the crew. Not the whole crew, just Demy, Axel, and Ventus. He feels bad about selling them out to his father for an execution. He wants to save them.

Roxas clutches his chest as he admits that he cares about the members of the crew, as it reflects him back to his father and his years of training, educating and mentoring. Wasted. The way it conflicts with what Roxas has done nearly his whole life. He still doesn't feel conflicted about killing the daughter of the sorcerer nor any other men or woman after that. But that's because they were strangers. He didn't know them like he knows Ventus and Axel and Demyx. That's one of the reasons why his father didn't want him to get close to anyone.

It feels . . . lighter having his thoughts sorted, though it doesn't make him feel better.

Roxas is just passing a bookshop where a young woman is setting up the display window, when Roxas feels a hand clamp his shoulder. Instinctively, Roxas whirls around smacking it aside and grabbing it to twist behind the person's back at an odd angle.

"Ow! Relax! Jeez!" Axel's voice rings. Roxas immediately lets go, and Axel pushes off the glass window as Roxas had him pinned to it. The old woman stares at them with wide eyes and Axel dusts himself off, and takes Roxas by the neck leading him away from the window. "You need to relax."Axel hisses in Roxas' ear.

"That's how you get killed." Roxas seethes back, shoving Axel off. "What are you doing here?" he asks.

The two men continue to walk down the street, slowing their pace as they elude the bookshop and soon come into the common rhythm of the other villagers.

"I came to look for you." Axel replies.

"Didn't Ventus tell you I was heading into town?"

"Yes, but I was concerned for you."

"Why?"

"Because . . ." Axel leans close. "with the posters out now it's risky."

Axel . . ." Roxas warns.

"I know, I know. But you can't blame me." Axel says.

"I can if it's because you think of me as Ventus." Roxas retorts.

"No. Not anymore." Axel says.

Roxas gives him a soft smile as they continue to walk. As they continue down the street, they then pass a strange place where the title is surrounded by angel wings in thick black outlining.

Roxas stops, grabbing Axel's hand in the process. The redhead looks up, eyebrows rising and a smile coming across his lips.

"What does a tattoo feel like?" Roxas asks.

Axel looks to the boy perplexed. "This coming from the boy who has an endless encyclopedic knowledge?"

Roxas smacks Axel's arm. "I know _of_ things. I don't know how they feel." He emphasizes.

Axel laughs. "Uh, well it hurts. I won't lie."

"I can imagine. Tattoo application uses a mechanized needle to puncture the skin and inject ink into the dermis or second layer of skin just below the epidermis. Since the process involves damaging the skin, the body responds with white blood cells which attempt to absorb the foreign particles and dispose of them in the blood. The reason the pigment stays there is because the pigment particles are too big to be eaten by the white blood cells. So they just remain there."

"Well if you knew all that then why did you ask?" Axel laughs.

Roxas shrugs. "I wanted an honest opinion." He continues to stare at the signs before asking Axel. "Do you have any?"

Axel looks to him and smiles. He then looks around and whispers. "Let's go inside."

Roxas lets Axel take his hand and lead him into the shop. There, the smell of burning ink and something thin and sharp breaches Roxas' nose. It wrinkles in disgust as the buzzing of many tattoo needles ring in his ears. The shop is small with only six stations for the customers and a single circular chain chandelier that hovers over all of them. There's small conversations going around but the men doing the tattoos keep their concentration on scribbling on the arms and feet and hands and backs of men.

"Here." Axel says and Roxas follows him towards an empty waiting room.

Axel smiles to Roxas, pulling off his shirt. Roxas stares unfazed as Axel's back muscles expand and contract before he holds still for Roxas to observe the scrolling designs that cover much of his exposed skin.

His chest, sculpted and smooth like a polished statue, depicts minutely detailed tattoos of sailing ships, tossing waves, and foam. A long-haired mermaid graced his existing shoulder, her scaly tail sweeping the length of his arm. A swirling whirlpool, a rolling cascade of waves and foam, the curling tentacles of a giant octopus. Though the pictures themselves might have been beautiful, Roxas was too distracted by the fact that they had been chiseled into his skin like carvings. That thought, combined with his sultry grin, makes them somehow vulgar.

"Wow." Roxas says as he approaches. He gazes at the designs, leaning in close despite the fact he can almost hear Axel's heartbeat. He lifts his hand and brushes over the foaming waves with his fingertips, his touch featherlike, causing Axel to stiffen as it tickles his chest. "They're beautiful." He says.

"Thank you." says Axel.

"Do they mean anything?" Roxas asks. He keeps his eyes trailing across the pictures, imagining a story of his own.

"They're supposed to. After all, they're permanent." Axel teases. Roxas looks up with a small grin on his face. "But yeah, I wanted to . . . commemorate my journeys on the sea. Since that's where I spent most of my life."

"Were your parents sailors too?" Roxas asks, dropping his hand.

"Mmmm . . . no . . ." Axel hesitates.

"Well then what -?" Roxas starts.

"Hey!" A man's voice cuts him off. Both look up to see a man with more ink than bare skin is wiping his hands and approaching the two. "How're you gentlemen?"

"Later." Axel whispers before smiling and walking up to the man. Axel extends out his hand. "Hi, how are you?"

The man takes Axel's hand. "I'm good thank you. Is there anything I can help you with?" he smiles. Roxas can't help but observe the man, seemingly unfazed by Axel being shirtless in his public shop.

"Uh . . . yeah, actually." Axel replies. "You got any anchor designs?"

"Sure," the man replies. Going over to a desk and reaching under, he pulls out a big thick book with yellow papers inside. "Something to add for the collection?"

"Absolutely." Axel laughs taking the book.

The man's attention turns to Roxas. "And what about you, young man?"

"I'm just looking." Roxas says with a smile and pleasant tone. Axel looks up at him shocked. "I don't know if I want one."

"Alright, well I'll be here if you need me." says the man.

"Thank you." Axel and Roxas say as the man returns to his desk and starts to rearrange and refill his ink bottles.

Roxas walks up to Axel and peers over his shoulder as he flips through the book. "What are you going to get?" Roxas says.

"An anchor." Axel answers. He looks up and smiles. "Want to look?"

Roxas nods and goes over to sit down next to Axel. Axel shifts the book so that the spine is in between their legs. Roxas takes the other half and gazes at the tens of black designs on the papers. From dragons to fairies to keys to hearts to names in different scripts to animals and scriptures of delicate swirling lines. Others are of stars and keys and hearts and the pictures of animals into the shape of hearts.

"You can also bring your own design and have them do it for you." Axel says.

"Really?"

"Yeah. That way you can definitely get what you want. And they'll even do a couple of designs for you."

Roxas holds his half of the book as Axel flips through it until they reach a section where the pages are marked with anchor tattoos front and back. Once Axel finds one he's satisfied with – a detailed shading of the anchor with the rope wrapping around the shank in a spiral – he hands Roxas the book and goes over to the man handing him the design. After flipping through the book one more time, Roxas sets it aside and gets up. He wanders around the room, looking at the artwork on the walls. It makes the air feel close and warm, and he could get lost in it for hours without noticing. He skims the wall with his fingertips. A picture of a black widow reminds him of the Spider Guild back in Twilight Town. Beneath it is a sketch of a flames enclosed in a double ringed circle.

"Pretty right?" a voice says behind him.

Roxas turns and sees a young woman with a completely shaved head. She carries a tray of colors – red, blue, yellow and green – her hands covered in black gloves.

"Uh, yeah."

"You thinking about getting one?" she asks as she goes over to her station, setting the tray down.

"Uh, not really." Roxas denies.

"We do have an age restriction, though. We only accept those of eighteen and over." She says.

By now, Axel is in the chair of the man that greeted them at the door. The needle buzzes like an angry bee and Axel squeezes his eyes shut and grunts sometimes as the needle pokes a certain spot on his lower abdomen on the right hand side.

"Uh . . . I would get one, but I have a sore shoulder." Roxas says.

She purses her lips and shrugs. "Hmm, well we can work around it. The real question is, do you think it'd be okay with your parents?"

"Parent. And, no." Roxas says.

"Then let's do it!" she sings.

Roxas laughs as she spins in her chair to face the counter. "Do you have any suggestions?"

She looks up and smiles. "Uh, well it needs to mean something. So, maybe something about your family; like a family quote, symbol. Nobles would get their crests. And this only has to be if you really want one."

Roxas debates over the options for a moment. He remembers his father's voice about wanting him pure: No strong drink shall pass his lips, no woman's skin will he caress. He technically didn't say anything about tattoos; and maybe if it's a symbol of the guild or of the family, something that has meaning as said, he won't be so upset.

Roxas never intended to get piercings or tattoos, ever. He knows that if he does, it will drive a wedge between him and his father that he can never remove.

But then again, this all could just be a part of Roxas that wants to rebel against his father. And the idea of tattoos just seems to, excite him. The idea of having something that is a reminder of where you came from and where you are now is comforting. This could be a way to honor his life.

The flame sketch holds Roxas' attention. He wanders over to the wall, Axel keeping a steady eye on him and smiles. Roxas stares at the flame designs and then turns his head to Axel. Axel smiles, his emerald green eyes shining with excitement. Roxas narrows his eyesight on Axel' hair; the red reminding him of flames in the light of the sun.

Roxas looks back to the design. He slides it out from behind it's plastic cover and walks over to the girl. She looks up and smiles.

"I want flames." Roxas says as he shows her the sketch. "But I want to make a few changes."

"Okay. Great." She chirps. She takes the sketch and sets it down on the table. "And where to you want it?" Roxas looks around, and then in one motion peels off his cloak and tunic, draping it over the back of a spare chair.

"Here." He says.

Roxas draws a circle over his heart. He sees and feels the fire burning in his chest. It's made of determination, perseverance and his drive of life. He feels its warmth and takes a deep breath.

As the man tapes over Axel's finished tattoo with a bandage, Roxas spends his time with the tattoo lady – whose name is Erika – modifying the flame tattoo Roxas picked to suit his needs. She makes sketches on rough paper until Roxas is satisfied. He changed the double rings of the circle, into a heart shape with a small crown etched at the intersection. The delicate lines of the heart give it a fluid motion, portraying a sort of enclosure that's not so, restricting.

Finally, Roxas gets in the chair and relaxes back.

The mechanic needle comes to life, humming as Erika presses on a small foot pedal warming it up. She brings forward a small pint of black ink.

"Alright. Now this'll take a while, but don't be afraid -"

"I'm not afraid." Roxas interjects.

Erika smiles and dips the needle into the ink. Axel sits in the waiting area, keeping the book in his lap as he waits. Roxas can't help but appreciate his patience.

Roxas looks as Erika starts to draw Roxas' tattoo design on his chest, just over his heart. The needle does hurt, but it's more like the biting of a mouse than a stabbing pain. Still, Roxas grunts and cringes a little as she gets close to his collarbone. He watches her hands as she works, making his blank torso bloom with strokes of the black ink, adding touches of thin and thicker lines.

Resting his head back, Roxas closes his eyes and sighs. He doesn't really doze off, but still enters a form of trance that helps to numb the biting of the needle. Then when he hears Erika say, "Okay." He opens his eyes, and his chest blooms to life with soreness. He grunts as he moves, and follows Erika to a full length mirror across the hallway.

Roxas walks up and exhales in pleasant surprise. The flame design is better than he had expected. Encased in the embrace of the heart, the flames blossom over Roxas' heart. He can see a tiny pinch of red inside the black ink and a faded red mist around it.

"What do you think?" Erika asks as she cleans her hands.

Roxas tilts his head left and right as he gazes at the tattoo, no matter how hard he tries to smile, it fights back. Axel walks up behind Roxas and smiles down at the boy and his tattoo. He smiles at Roxas as the blonde continues to stare at himself, unbothered by how close Axel seems to be behind him.

"I love it." Roxas breathes. "It's amazing."

"Oh thank you." Erika squeaks. "I'm glad you like it."

"You look good." Axel smiles.

"Thank you. I can't believe how much I love it." Roxas says.

"Alright, so if you gentlemen are done, I have your total here."

"What?" Roxas asks.

"I got it." Axel says.

"No wait, what?"

"Tattoo's cost money." Axel says as he pulls out a coin purse.

"I know, but you don't have to pay mine." Roxas says.

"I know, I want to." Axel insists.

"But-"

"It's fine, Roxas." Axel playfully winks. Roxas looks away as he feels his cheeks grow warm, and Axel hands the man a medium sized coin purse. As the man exchanges change, Roxas looks cross the street and sees a shop that sells candy. With a brilliant idea in his head, Roxas lets Erika finishes taping a bandage over Roxas' tattoo and instructing him on how to care for it before removing the bandage. Roxas nods and thanks her again, pulling on his tunic.

Once Axel receives his change, Roxas takes Axel's hand this time and leads him out of the shop, Erika tossing Axel Roxas' cloak. Axel gives his goodbyes to the people of the tattoo shop and quickly follows Roxas.

"Where are we going?" Axel asks.

"Come on." Roxas insists. He tugs Axel across the street, and quickly gazes at the sky. The sun is nearly setting on the horizon, the darkness of the night creeping over the sky. Roxas could hear Ventus' questioning tone now, where have they been or what have they been doing.

Entering the candy shop, Roxas guides Axel over to the display case. "Okay, pick your favorite." Roxas says releasing his hand.

Axel looks to the boy confused, sensing a trap, when he realizes what he's trying to do. "Roxas," Axel sighs. "You need to learn to take a kind gesture. You don't have to do this to, pay me back in a way. It was your first tattoo."

"I know, I know. This is more of a way of saying thank you." Roxas politely puts it. "Not just for paying for it, but just for also giving moral support."

Axel chuckles and gives a shake of his head. "Roxas, I'm not that hungry."

"Then pick some for later." Roxas insists.

"Roxas -"

"Axel." Roxas repeats. "You need to learn to take a kind gesture." He repeats.

Axel glares at him with a smirk on his face and chuckles. "Alright. Fine."

Leaning towards the glass, Axel gazes at the candies. Roxas can't help but poke at his chest, Axel patting away his hand.

"Don't touch it. You'll ruin it." he says. Roxas rolls his eyes as Axel goes back to exploring the inventory. "You want anything?"

"It's whatever you want." Roxas says.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" The woman behind the counter, who is wearing a pink apron with pink ruffles – leans over and smiles at the men. She wears a pair of spectacles and her hair is pulled back into a bun.

"He's just picking out." Roxas says.

"Oh, how nice. Might I recommend some chocolates for you two?"

"Why?" Roxas asks.

"Aren't you buying these for your boyfriend?" the woman asks perplexed.

Roxas' eyes widen and he looks to Axel, who gives a waggle of eyebrows.

"No, no, no." Roxas says waving his hand. "We're not together. I'm just repaying him."

"Well you don't have to sound do disgusted." Axel smirks.

"Force of habit." Roxas remarks.

Axel rises to stand and lean on hand on the glass. "I'll take two boxes of the chocolate strawberries, some chocolate covered peanuts, and two cups of chocolate mousse."

As she nods and readies the order, Roxas walks up to Axel as he leans against the glass.

"You like chocolate mousse?" he asks.

"No, but you do." Axel smiles and before Axel can remark, the woman behind the counter laughs.

Roxas walks up to the counter after she sets down a brown paper bag and adds up Roxas' total. Axel approaches and Roxas pulls out his coin purse. He hands the woman the bag and says to keep the change.

Roxas takes the bag and digs around for Axel's strawberries. Axel takes one, biting it in half, and then popping the whole thing in his mouth leaving the leaf.

"At least wait until we get to the ship. I _just_ paid for these." Roxas says.

"At least you know your money isn't going to waste." Axel counters. Roxas shakes his head and looks to the sky.

"We should head back, it's getting dark. The crew will wonder where we are." Roxas says.

"Wait," Axel speaks while swallowing the strawberry. "Just a moment."

"What?"

Axel sucks away the remaining chocolate on his fingers and wipes them on his pants, hoping Roxas doesn't notice. If he does, Roxas doesn't say anything. As he's about to speak, Roxas looks up at the sound of a caw and they spot a black bird flying against the range and yellow blaze. He dives down and Roxas' face lights up as he sets down the bag of candies. Charlie lands on his hand and ruffles his feathers.

Axel grins. "Hey, can he deliver messages?"

Roxas stiffens but shrugs it off as a shiver despite the eighty-five degree weather. "Yeah. He's like a carrier crow."

"Maybe he can send a message to the crew." Axel says.

Roxas turns, Charlie hopping up on his shoulder as Axel digs around in a pouch belted around his waist. He pulls out a folded sheet of paper and a thin piece of charcoal. Roxas pets Charlie's chest feathers as Axel scribbles on the piece of paper, then folding it in half and then in half again. He hands the note to Roxas and Charlie instantly hops down to his hand. Taking one of the leather straps tired to Charlie's ankle, Roxas pokes a hole through the piece of paper and then loops the leather strap through, securing it in a knot.

"Take this to the ship with the boy with blonde hair." Roxas orders. Charlie caws and with a lift from Roxas flies off into the sky and towards the direction of the docks.

"Smart bird." Axel says as she shields his eyes with his hand, watching Charlie fly off.

"Smarter than your entire crew I'm sure." Roxas provokes. Axel gives him a look, but chuckles.

"Come on." He says. "There's something I want to show you."

He laces his fingers with Roxas' and Roxas lets him.

Hand in hand, they walk down the street and towards a line of flat-topped roofs, Axel carrying the bag of candies. Roxas monitors the pressure of his own hand carefully. One minute he feels like he's not gripping hard enough, and the next, he's squeezing too hard. Roxas never used to understand why people bothered to hold hands as they walked, but admittedly it's not . . . bad.

"So . . ." Roxas tries to pry. "Where are you taking me?"

"It's a surprise." Axel smiles.

"I hate surprises." Roxas flatly says. He digs his heels into the ground and slows down their walking.

Axel skirts to a stop and turns. "Aw come on, Roxas." Axel almost whines, causing Roxas to snicker. "Trust me."

Roxas looks to him, and then around over his own shoulders at pedestrians. He sighs and continues to walk with Axel. Axel smiles as they walk down the street and up to the houses. Axel turns them down an alley near one of the buildings, one of them having a fire escape. Axel releases Roxas' hand and stands on his toes grabbing the second to last rusty rung of the drop down ladder. Roxas never realized how tall he was.

Pulling the ladder down, it clangs against the concrete. Axel stands aside and motions his hand. "After you."

Roxas chuckles. "Such a gentleman."

Roxas climbs up the rungs and vaults himself over the lip of the wall. Axel shortly follows, accepting a hand that Roxas extends out. Once they're both on the rooftop, Axel walks ahead, motion Roxas in his direction.

"You know you shouldn't stretch your shoulder a lot, you'll stretch the ink of your new tattoo." Axel says.

"I guess. Force of habit." Roxas says as he pulls down his collar to peek at the flame tattoo.

"I'm surprised you got it. Didn't you say your father wanted you pure or something?"

"It's your fault. You're a bad influence." Roxas grins.

"I didn't even pressure you into getting one!" Axel laughs. "You made the decision yourself."

"It seemed like a bright idea at the time." Roxas says.

"Don't tell me you're regretting it."

"No, no. I like it." Roxas gives a small smile.

Axel leads him across the roof, then hopping down to a lower building, and then up again. Roxas can't help but feel rejuvenated running across rooftops like he did back in his hometown. They hop across rooftops for two minutes, Axel leading them up and down, across small gaps and over angular ridges before Axel hoists Roxas up on the last one. It's one of those buildings where the shops are on the bottom and the living residences are on the top. He guides Roxas to the edge, and sits down, his feet dangling over the edge. Roxas sits beside him. Axel looks to the blonde, seeing he's comfortable here, towering over the city below.

Roxas looks out and sees the sky a spectacular orange and yellow blaze, bleeding out to pink and contrasting with the purple clouds. The night behind them is slowly creeping over, banishing the colors so that the dark blue can conquer the city.

"I figured you'd want to see this." Axel says. "I don't know what the sunsets are like back in Twilight, but, you know -"

"Thank you." Roxas replies, a small smile on his face.

Axel sets the bag of candy in between them and pulls out the opened box of chocolate strawberries. He hands one to Roxas and he takes it.

"Thank you."

They eat the fruit for a couple minutes, and when they finish it Roxas decides to say, "You said you were going to tell me about your parents."

Axel looks to him, in the midst of sucking chocolate off his thumb. "Oh, yeah."

"I had asked you if they were sailors too. And you said you would tell me later." Roxas reminds.

"Right, right." Axel nods. "So, my parents weren't sailors."

"Okay." Roxas follows.

"And, um . . . well things get complicated."

"I'm listening."

"My dad, he wasn't, the best. He . . . had a short temper, high expectations." Axel tells.

"Sounds kind of like mine." Roxas says.

"_No one_ is like your father. But he does come close."

Roxas doesn't know whether to be flattered or irritated. So he just shrugs.

Axel sighs. "From the moment I was born, and a ship came into our town, I wanted to be a sailor. I mean, I was young, but I just knew it's what I wanted to be."

"Where did you come from?" Roxas asks.

Axel smiles. "I actually was born into a rich family."

Roxas snaps his head to him. "What?!"

"Yeah, I was a rich, only child who got anything I wanted; as long as I behaved. And sat still, and didn't speak unless spoken too. My father owned a winery; and we made the greatest red wine to ever cross your lips I can promise you that. We had food, riches, and I was even betrothed to a lovely young woman."

Roxas furrows his eyes in confusion. "Why did you leave?"

"Because it was dull." Axel answers, causing Roxas to laugh. "The betrothal was arranged, and everyday it was the same old routine. Wake up, work at the winery, smiles and behave while I was at parties with no one I cared about. I just wanted a little excitement, so I was the black sheep of the family."

Roxas opens up the new box of the strawberries and hands Axel a piece.

"So, when a ship came in – the men looking rugged and tough and smiling, I managed to convince them to let me in."

"That can't be as easy as you portray." Roxas chuckles.

"No, no it wasn't. But I'm just trying to shorten the story because the details are way too complicated to get into right now." Axel laughs. "So, I joined their crew and they had their headquarters here in the hometown, so I joined them at pubs and brothels. I admit, those eight years with the crew were some of the best of my life. All the wine I could drink, all the food I could eat and all the women I could bed."

"Mmm, so luxurious." Roxas sarcastically says. Still he laces his fingers together and clenches. Something inside him deflates. He had immediately assumed that Axel was, experienced, but to wander around the houses almost no different than the whores themselves; it's almost abhorrent.

"Yeah, but soon my father caught on to what I was doing. Beat so hard over the head I thought I would have amnesia. But what was I to think I would be that lucky."

"What do you mean, lucky?" Roxas asks.

Axel sighs. He swallows and Roxas feels his body prickle with coldness. He stops mid-bite on his strawberry. "I can still feel the belt." He softly mumbles, it's almost barely hearable if it weren't for Roxas sitting so close. "My father had a strict household that he wanted to keep, perfect. And since I was rebelling, he wanted to add a few new, tricks from his daily routine."

"Routine?" Roxas quietly repeats.

"Yeah, he was abusive." Axel finally says. "And he would beat me on a daily basis. My mother would try to defend me, but she would only receive the same punishment. I told her one day to not defend me; because the thought of him laying a violent hand on her made me more irritated than him hitting me."

Roxas stares at Axel, his eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed, his appetite suddenly lost as the chocolate tastes like sandpaper in his mouth.

"He would come home drunk from all the wine tasting and flourishing his money at the brothels. My mom and I needed to get out. We didn't care if it was nice, if we weren't happy we had no place there."

"She was that easy to convince?" Roxas asks.

"Completely. She told me she hated seeing him take his anger out on me, and she couldn't do anything about it. So that's when I realized the crew was my way out, I had to help mom find her way out. She managed to find a job working as a seamstress in Radiant Garden. Once she was off, I was off next. And I was glad to leave."

"I'm guessing he wasn't as happy." Roxas quietly speaks.

"No, but you know, that whole time I never even struck him back." Axel says.

"What? Why?" Roxas suddenly chirps. "You were free. You could've gotten payback that he rightfully deserved!"

Axel looks to Roxas and shakes his head. "If I had done, what he did to me all those years, I would be no different than him."

Roxas tenses and feels his body on edge. He is wrong about Axel.

"And I don't want a single ounce of him inside me. I wasn't going to stoop to his level. And now, I'm happy. I'm actually happy. And when I look to him, I see a sad old man. It's not my loss, it's his." Axel gently smiles.

Roxas looks to Axel, his heart thumping in his ears. Axel casts aside the empty tray of strawberries.

"I try to keep in contact with my mom, and we'll send letters to each other."

"And how does that correlate with you raiding the towns?"

Axel chuckles, softly rubbing his neck. "Eh, it kind of grew on me." Roxas smiles back and keeps his hands in his lap. Axel sighs and stretches his arms wide. "Well, that's my story. What do you think?"

Roxas looks to Axel. "I appreciate you confiding to me."

"Don't think I did that without expecting something in return." Axel smiles.

"Oh no." Roxas mumbles.

Axel chuckles. "Don't worry. I'm just teasing. "I'm not going to pry."

Axel puts a hand on the lip of the roof, his fingers lining up with Roxas'. Roxas looks down at Axel's hands. Long and narrow, he has hands made for fine, deft movements, not thick and tough and ready to break things.

"But then it feels unfair." Roxas replies.

"_You_ . . . care about fairness?" Axel grins.

He leans his face closer to Roxas', his eyes focusing on Roxas' chin, and Roxas' nose, and Roxas' lips. Roxas' cheeks warm, and he can't think of anything to say. It's as if the flames on his heart have become real and they grow now, breaking away from the heart cage and licking their way across Roxas face, neck and arms.

All Roxas can do is latch on to the last logical thought he remembers. "Why did you really come out to find me?"

Axel smiles at Roxas, and touches his lips to Roxas temple. Roxas shyly flinches back, almost as if startled. Then Axel laughs, a deep laugh that sounds like it came from deep inside him. "I came out because I was worried. And because I like you." he says it plainly, boldly, and his eyes flick to Roxas.

Just like that, he's declared himself, and Roxas doesn't know how to respond. "But . . . why . . .?" Roxas asks, his voice in a steady tone. Clearly his training in control was beyond successful. "You're older than I am."

"Yes you carry yourself very maturley." Axel answers.

Roxas shakes his head. "I don't get it. I killed men, I spill blood, I'm a wanted man -"

"So? I live a similar life. But you're also deadly smart. Your brave. And even after I told you about my father . . ." Axel's voice softens. "You aren't giving me that look. Like I'm a lost puppy."

"Well," Roxas says. "Because you're not."

Axel chuckles and touches his lips to Roxas' temple, and then Roxas' cheek. This time Roxas reacts with a jab to Axel's chest and grabbing Axel's shoulders, spinning him around and pinning him to the roof. His hands are positioned in a way that looks like he's ready to snap Axel's neck. Axel grunts in pain, but still chuckles.

"Well, that killed the mood. Jeez, you're good at killing all kinds of things aren't you?"

Roxas breathes heavily as he stares at Axel. "The only time a man ever gets that close to me is when he's attacking me trying to kill me."

"Well, I'm clearly _not_ trying to kill you." Axel smiles.

Roxas stares at him for a while longer, before retracting back. Axel clears his throat and pushes himself to a sitting position, Roxas standing up; though his knees feel like they might collapse at any moment. What was _wrong_ with him?

Axel rises to stand and pats his pants.

"I'm sorry." Roxas murmurs. Axel looks up and shrugs.

"Don't worry about it." Axel looks to the boy as he fidgets with the hilt of his dagger as if it'll help calm him down. It's a strange sight to see how nervous he is. Axel can't but feel sorry for the boy, having no real intimate contact of any kind with any kind of person. And with his father wanting him to be pure and all, it's clear he's trying to morph Roxas into the coldest assassin there had ever lived, and have his legacy live long after death.

"Roxas." Axel states. Roxas looks up at attention like when a sergeant calls the name of a private. "Do you know anything about love? Like romance, kissing?"

Roxas swallows, and his face becomes as placid as plastic. "Kissing requires a total of thirty-four facial muscles and one hundred twelve postural muscles. The most important muscle involved is the orbicularis oris muscle . . ." Roxas recites. "Because it's used, to pucker the lips."

For a moment, Axel's green eyes are on Roxas', and he's quiet. Then he touches Roxas' face and leans in close, brushing Roxas' lips with his. Roxas' ears roar with blood and his feet feel as if they've been sitting in ice water for hours. Axel grins and presses his mouth to Roxas'.

Roxas tenses up, unsure of himself. It's the first time he's ever kissed anyone, let alone a man. But it still should make some sort of impression he supposes, but all he can register is how hot and soft Axel's lips are and how they smell of fruit and chocolate. So when Axel pulls away, Roxas is sure he did something wrong, or badly.

But Axel takes Roxas' face in his hands, his fingers strong against Roxas' skin, and kisses Roxas again, firmer this time, more certain. As if they know already what to do, Roxas wraps an arm around Axel, sliding his hand up Axel's neck and into the short of his hair.

Axel expects the kiss to be like Ventus, who has not even crossed his mind the entire time he was with Roxas. Or perhaps Roxas will stab him in the stomach for his intrusiveness, but the boy lets Axel kiss him, in fact even relaxing into it.

And it feels like Roxas. He is his own. He is not Ventus. Ventus isn't Roxas.

This is Roxas.

Axel's hand drifts to the still healing tattoo on Roxas' chest. It feels hot and Roxas' heartbeat is so hard that Axel can feel it against his hand.

Roxas focuses on the heat in his chest. Guided by his mind, it travels into his arms and then burst into flames around himself. Red heat engulfs him, consumes him. He can picture the fire course the lengths of him arms. It dances over his cloak and Roxas can feel his thoughts curl and turn from orange to brown with every kiss from Axel.

For a second, his guild emblem flashes before his eyes. But they collapse and tumble into ash. The fire snuffs them into blackness and with it, his father.


	23. Chapter 22

They had managed to sneak back onto the ship without raising any suspicion. But while Roxas managed to go to the cabins, he feels silly and light. Every time he pushes the smile from his face, it fights its way back. Eventually, with the cover the darkness, Roxas stop suppressing it.

He sneaks his way into the cabin and easily passes the sleeping men. Roxas doubts they could even hear him with the heavy snoring. He manages to creep into the bed and snuggles down beneath the covers, when he realizes the covers feel different. Roxas sits up and feels the fabric between his fingers. Unlike the pelts he had before, this feels like a quilt. Striking a match in the dark, Roxas holds it up to see a quilt that looked oddly familiar. Then when he flips it over to see the pattern on the other side, he realizes it's one of the quilts from Axel's quarters. Roxas lifts it to his nose and inhales; it smells like him. Roxas feels himself acting like a lunatic, but he can't stop. It would be like refusing to breathe. He can only hope that it will ware off; the last thing he needs is the men teasing him, let alone the spies of the guild spotting him as well. The reminder feels harsh against his chest, but Roxas sees it as a reminder to be more cautious.

Pulling the quilt up and over his shoulders, the lining rests just below Roxas' nose. He inhales and lets himself giggle quietly. He burrows into the pillow and tries to go to sleep, not even caring if he didn't get much sleep. He could have enough energy to power the entire city.

Still his father manages to creep into his thoughts and he can only see the disapproval and anger on his face. Roxas feels slight fear at the idea of his father being upset with Roxas and Axel for being the bad influence. Now he's done more than serve his father Axel's head, he's now helped dig Axel's grave. Still, Roxas lets the thoughts drift away like ash as he burrows into the bed.

As Axel mounts the steps to his cabin, he too can't seem to suppress the smile he had on his lips. If he had it his way, he would've kissed Roxas until a forth night. But Roxas gently reminded him that it was getting late, and that if they were gone any longer, the crew would get suspicious; though Axel knew that Roxas was referring to Ventus. It pains Axel to think about him, and the effect of what he's done, and yet he's so happy he can't bring himself to care much about it.

He pauses as he approaches the door to his cabin, and peeks inside to see if Ventus was there. There is no sign, and Axel can't help but feel relief. He opens the door and shuts it behind him, resting his back and letting loose a laugh. He would jump all around the cabin if it weren't for Ventus' cabin being directly below as well as Roxas and the men's sleeping cabins.

Pulling off his shirt, he winces as he stretches the skin of his anchor tattoo. Casting it aside, Axel pulls off his boots and exchanges his trousers for sleep pants. He crawls into bed and lies on his back, hands cupping the back of his head and stares out the window at the full moon. He had managed to kiss Roxas, and that alone is enough to keep Axel smiling. He never expected any of it to happen, in fact he never even expected the boy to accept his proclamation nearly eleven days ago. And after watching him fight and defend himself and show his strength through the most deteriorating tortures that would drive any man to insanity, Axel can't believe how easily the boy has won him over.

Perhaps it's because he's a mixture of both strength and weakness. Axel has seen Roxas at his lowest possible point, and still he powers through life with pride and potency as he would if nothing has happened.

Axel chuckles as he thinks about how the boy has so little experience with intimacy despite his extensive knowledge. Courageous but still innocent. Axel's shoulders relax as he flicks his gaze up to the ceiling and shuts his eyes.

In the morning, Roxas decides to abandon his guild uniform and in favor of amore fitted ensemble; in which it includes a sleeveless shirt borrowed from Demyx, a black leather jacket and a more fitted pair of pants that easily slide into his leather boots. Still, Roxas straps and clips the belts of his weapons around his waist and shrugs on the jacket. Leaving his cloak sprawled across the cot, Roxas pops the collar of the jacket up to his ears.

"Well this is a new look." says Xigbar as he comes by Roxas' bed. His eyes are swollen from sleep and his tangled hair forms a fuzzy halo around his face.

Roxas shrugs and reminds himself that Axel will most likely want to keep things professional on the ship given that Ventus obviously has feelings for him. Roxas sees a flicker of light out of his peripherals and realizes he's accidentally taken off the silver chain necklace given to him by his father. He nearly forgot he was wearing it at all since the beginning.

The necklace hands on a glittering silver chain, attached by a dozen interlocked circles. Then the pendant itself is a silver four-pointed star. When Cloud had first given it to him, Roxas couldn't help but treat it like a throwing star. He would pretend to throw it, and Cloud seemed rather pleased, as the boy can see anything as a weapon as long as he puts his knowledge into it.

"With the wanted posters out, I can't afford to stand out for once." Roxas dodges.

"Oh, let the boy be in a good mood," Demyx says. "You may never see it again."

Roxas smacks his arm and hurries up the steps to the main deck. He jumps up over two men carrying a large crate and swings onto the shrouds of the mizzenmast and swings himself across to the next mast up until he reaches the bowsprit. Roxas feels like he could do flips for days with his high amounts of energy. Knowing the crew may be able to catch on, Roxas decides its best that he has whatever breakfast is served and go an explore the town rather than practice his tumbling routines all around the deck of the ship.

Taking the stairs near Axel's cabin that leads to the pub, Roxas jogs in grabbing a piece of toast from the plate in the middle of the bar counter and starts to butter it. As he does, he hops up and spins into a bar stool, resting his elbows on the counter.

"Jeez, you're in a good mood." Luxord says as he takes a seat next to Roxas, a glass in his hand, filled with a foggy liquid and ice clanking around.

"Is it that obvious?" Roxas asks as he takes a bite of the toast.

"I like how you didn't deny it." Luxord grins. "Nice new look by the way. Makes you look less . . ."

"Intimidating?" Roxas finishes.

"I was going to say fat." Luxord chuckles. Roxas punches Luxord's arm.

Demyx's voice suddenly rings out. "Hold on a minute!" he hurries over to Roxas and pulls aside the jacket and shirt. Roxas lets him already knowing what he's looking for, as the shirt Roxas borrowed from Demyx cuts across his chest revealing the tips of the flame tattoo he had gotten last night.

Demyx reveals the tattoo and his eyes widen. "Holy shit!" he smiles widely with excitement. "When did this happen?!" he nearly screams.

"Last night." Roxas answers.

Demyx steps back and places his hands on his hips like a disappointed mother, earning laughter from the rest of the crew. "Young man, I did _not_ give you permission to go and get a tattoo." He shakes his pointer finger at Roxas in correction, and Roxas can't be more grateful that it's a joke because he could not hold in his laugh if he tried. He could just hear his instructors screaming now.

The rest of the crew gathers around Roxas and observe his tattoo giving their insight on it and drifting the conversations to their own tattoos that they've gotten.

"I seriously did not think you would get a tattoo." Demy chuckles as he takes a seat next to Roxas. "How much alcohol did you have before you got it?"

Roxas nudges him. "I wasn't drunk. After I had to meet with a friend, I ran into Axel afterwards, and we passed a tattoo shop. He said he wanted to get a new one and dragged me inside."

"Oh." Demyx says nodding his head. He seems to but the lie, and Roxas can't help but chuckle at how gullible he can be. "Well I like it. It's nice."

"Thank you." Roxas says. He gobbles down the rest of the toast, then follows it with a glass of water before leaving the bar. As Roxas yanks open the door, he nearly crashes into Zack, startling the boy as he was about to walk through.

"Whoa! Sorry." he says.

"Don't worry about it." Roxas says as he slips past him.

"Whoa, where are you going?" Zack calls.

"In town!" Roxas replies as he enters the hall.

As he nears the steps, he startles another figure. He looks and sees Ventus staring down with wide blue eyes. He wears a white tunic and brown trousers and boots.

"Oh, sorry Ventus." Roxas huffs.

"Where are you off to?" he asks as he steps onto the same step with Roxas.

"Just in town. I want to browse around. How much longer are we in the town?" Roxas asks.

"Just a couple more days, or . . . maybe even today. I'll have to ask Axel." Ventus ponders. "Oh, if it's okay with me asking, where were you guys last night?"

"Oh! Right." Roxas says as he places his fingertips to his temples. "I didn't tell you. Here."

They get off the steps and to the side. Ventus stands while Roxas leans one shoulder against the wall, hands in his pockets. Ventus can't get over how different Roxas looks without his guild uniform and cloak. His new clothes fit his muscular frame and Ventus can see the tips of a tattoo poke out under the hemline of his tank top.

"So the guy who accidentally came to see you last night, was my friend Vanitas. And he had to talk to me, so I went to meet him in the temple like he told you."

"Okay." Ventus nods.

"And after that, we had spent a few hours together, and then when we parted I ran into Axel on the way back." Roxas explains.

"Right. I managed to convince him to not go after you immediately, but he said he'd give you like, an hour."

Roxas laughs. "Well I blew that shit. Anyway, as I was heading back, I ran into Axel on the way. We were on our way back when we stopped at a tattoo parlor and Axel wanted to get an anchor, apparently."

"Oh yeah! He's been talking about that for a while now." Ventus laughs.

"So while we were there, I had given it some thought and decided . . ." Roxas moves his shirt. ". . . to get this."

He pulls at his shirt and shows Ventus the flame tattoo encased in the heart. Ventus leans in and smiles. "Oh, cool. It looks nice."

"Thank you." Roxas smiles. "And then after that we came back here."

"Did it hurt?" Ventus asks as he folds his arms.

"Not as bad as people say, but I think it depends on you." Roxas advises.

"I was thinking that because you can tolerate _a lot_ of pain." Ventus laughs. "But I'm surprised you even got it, you don't think your father will be mad?"

"Uh . . . yeah he might. But as long as I can somehow convince him that it's, like part of the guild or a significant to the guild, hopefully he'll spare me." Roxas says.

Normally when talking about his father, Roxas would be cautious by his words and speak with the upmost respect he carries, but now, he treats his father like any other normal parents; which in his case is disrespectful, but while he's away from his father, he decides to view this not as being captive, but being . . . free.

Another set of footsteps catches both their attention and Roxas peers over Ventus' shoulder and takes note of how the boy tenses. Axel walks down the steps in a loose ecru poof-sleeved tunic and a pair of grey trousers and black boots. He sees the boys and spares a smile despite his insides growing cold.

Seeing the two standing next to each other, and them unintentionally wearing polar opposite clothing – Roxas in black, Ventus in white – Axel can't help but stare. Roxas is wearing a fitted outfit this time with a leather jacket, Ventus in a loose tunic looking so innocent, Axel can see the definite differences in them now.

"Morning Captain." Roxas salutes. Axel smiles and salutes in return.

Ventus and shyly smiles. "Roxas was just telling me about how you peer-pressured him into getting a tattoo."

Roxas laughs and Axel rolls his eyes. "I did not pressure him! He got it himself."

Ventus laughs as Axel walks past the boys. "I assume you're off somewhere?" Axel asks.

"Yeah I was just going to head into town." Roxas answers.

"Alright, be careful."

"I will."

As Axel leaves, Roxas adjusts his jacket. "Anyway I should go, but I'll try and see you later." Roxas says.

Ventus then catches Roxas' wrist as he passes and leans in close. "I didn't want to say anything, but there's a cloaked figure out on the docks." He whispers.

Roxas tenses, and suddenly it's easy not to smile anymore. "What?"

"I think it might be your friend." Ventus adds.

"Did he approach the ship?"

"No, he's just standing there. I figured you knew him."

"Okay." Roxas nods. "Alright, I'll check it out. Stay safe."

"You too."

Roxas leaves Ventus and hops up the steps and carefully makes his way towards the edge of the boat, peeking over the edge. He spots the figure with his back facing the ship. Roxas leans against the edge and recognizes the cloak's shape of the hood. He smiles and shakes his head.

With relief flooding him, Roxas jogs down to the deck and to the plank bridge. "Vanitas."

Immediately the boy turns around, his eyes wide and eyebrows high in surprise at Roxas' rather stupid decision to call out rather than attack. His eyes grow wider as he watches Roxas walk down the bridge to the docks, his uniform seemingly more, attractive as it accentuates his muscular frame.

"Wow." Vanitas breathes.

"Nice to see you too." Roxas smirks. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you."

"Clearly."

"Uh but first, what's with this new look?" Vanitas says.

"I decided to try and change it up. For the wanted posters." Roxas covers.

"Oh . . . okay." Vanitas says wearily. "Well I came to tell you about this library in town. Says it's supposed to have like, all kinds of books that would give a professor an orgasm."

"Hmm, so charming." Roxas chuckles.

"It is, because it's where I found . . . this." Vanitas reaches into his cloak and pulls out a thick purple book. It has a similar gold-lining as the green book back in the library of Destiny Isles. Roxas looks to the book and then back at Vanitas.

He takes the book and immediately flips to a middle section, opening up to a picture that takes up the entire left-hand page, sand writing on the right. Roxas doesn't even pay attention to the writing as his eyes scan the picture. It shows a detailed sketch of a woman in purple wrappings. She crosses her daggers and looks straight on into the eyes of the reader. The Faceless.

Roxas looks back up to Vanitas. "So, wait, does this mean that they're here?"

Vanitas shrugs, pulling down his hood and revealing his ebony hair. "Come on, let's talk."

Roxas claps the book shut and keeps it tucked under his arm as he follows Vanitas down the streets. "So, what does this have to do with anything?" Roxas asks when they're off the docks and have passed ten shops.

"There was an assassination, in the far-eastern land of Olympus. They said that the killer was only revealed to be a woman in purple wrappings." Vanitas explains.

"Olympus . . . that's, that's not too far from Arendelle, which is the closest partner in trade to the Destiny Isles." Roxas summarizes.

"Exactly. Their influence is spreading. And I can't seem to understand how they're spreading so quickly."

"It is rather peculiar." Roxas says as he opens the book at the very start. He browses through the table of contents as they walk, and he hears Vanitas' footsteps quicken to walk away. Roxas stops and looks up to find him quickly walking towards a wall and ripping down a piece of paper. He saunters back over and shows Roxas the paper.

Roxas sighs as he stares at himself, his hood up and his mask over his face, his feature still obscure, but Roxas can only assume the longer he stays away, the more define his father will make the posters. Below it lists that Roxas has blonde hair and blue eyes, but that's pretty much it besides the obvious fact that he wears black. Vanitas crumples it and throws it away in the nearest trash bin.

"You know when there's a wanted poster about you, it's a sign that you should head home _soon_." Vanitas says through grit teeth.

"I'm working on it." Roxas replies.

The boys walk the streets, the thoughts of the Faceless and their fast growing empire dominating Roxas' brain. He can't imagine how they're so quickly growing. What could be their reason? How are they doing it, and could they be a personal enemy or ally to his father's own territory? Roxas doesn't know.

"So, how are you really planning on getting home?" Roxas asks Vanitas.

"I'll just take a ship. No big deal." He answers.

"I don't know . . ."

"What?" Vanitas asks.

"Something doesn't feel right." Roxas says.

"And what could that be?"

Roxas looks all around, peeking at buildings and between allies. He and Vanitas continue walking.

Sensing danger before it happens, Roxas draws his dagger and whirls around, and smacking aside a boa and having it crash into the wall of a shop. The building's brick exterior crumples and Vanitas whips around drawing his own dagger. People shriek and women squeal.

Up on top of the rooftops is a man decked in spiked armor and an iron helmet with horns on it. Roxas and Vanitas snarl and glare as he hops down from the lower rooftop of a butcher shop. He carries a large warhammer and his arm has metal replacing his flesh. His helmet doesn't cover his mouth, so Roxas and Vanitas can see a snaggletooth smile.

"What do you want?" Vanitas barks.

"That reward! What else?!" the man smiles back.

There's a whoosh of air and Roxas draws his second dagger and slashes his arms in an X slicing away a rope net about to fall on him; then he leaps and flips out of the way, Vanitas diving and rolling to avoid the rest of the net.

Two more men drop from the rooftops wearing similar metal armor and helmets. They carry axes and swords, and shields on their non-dominant arms. The metal head with the horned helmet steps in front of them.

"Friends of your father I assume?" Vanitas whispers to Roxas.

"If they are he never really talked about them. Though I can understand why. But my father would never hire such lowlives." Roxas clarifies.

"That boy is worth enough to make me a rich noble! And I want that money!" the horned helmet man screams with a hysterical laugh.

"Okay, either your drunk or your stupid. Probably both." Vanitas snarls. "But stay away from him." Vanitas defends.

"Oh?! Is that so? What, did you catch him first? Ha!" he laughs. "That boy is fair game you little chicken-shit. And I will have my money!"

The other men shout behind him and suddenly their yelling has attracted the ears of brutes and thugs wandering the streets. A few more men start to enter slowly enclosing the two in a circle, drawing their weapons and licking their lips.

Vanitas and Roxas stand back to back with their weapons. "Any suggestions?" Vanitas whispers.

"We should get to the ship. But I can't risk them seeing me go on it." Roxas informs.

"Distraction?"

"On my count." Roxas nods.

Slowly they begin to rotate in a circle, taking in the number of men they're facing. Apart from the three decked in spiked armor, there are at least five more starting to slowly walk their way towards the boys.

"One."

Roxas spins his dagger as a distraction.

"Two."

Vanitas draws his sword and dagger. Roxas twiddles his fingers over his gun.

"Three!"

Vanitas ducks down instantly throwing a dagger at the metalhead man's lackey's landing them in their chests. Roxas pulls out his gun and starts to shoot at all the other men, landing them in the neck, chest of eye. They each die instantly and as the horned helmet man charges, the boys spin replacing the other's positions and Roxas draws his dagger and holds it out, letting the man stab himself in the diaphragm.

Roxas grisly smiles. "You're so stupid."

Roxas then proceeds to decapitate the man and throw his head towards a duo who are trying to emerge from their stalls. They jump back and Roxas shoots two bullets at them. They then spin again and Vanitas plucks a small black ball from his belt and slams it to the ground. Smoke erupts up around them and thy boys' silhouettes easily vanish in the midst.

Vanitas keeps pace with Roxas as they turn sharp lefts and rights down an alleyway that Vanitas saw as they rotated. He stays with Roxas, his and Roxas' thoughts in near sync as they take the same thought patterns.

"We can't go back to the docks. Not yet." Vanitas says between breaths.

"But the crew will hear the gunshots. They might come looking." Roxas says.

"I would say that's stupid, but they may just _be_ that stupid."

"Any ideas?" Roxas asks. "I'm open to suggestions."

Vanitas huffs as they make another right and wind up in a semicircle of shops. "Stop." Vanitas breathes. Roxas skits to a stop instantly and looks back as his friend leans his hand on the wall, doubled over out of breath. Something's wrong. Vanitas is never out of breath. Roxas comes over and sees that he's bleeding from the stomach.

"Vanitas! You're hurt! How did that happen?" Roxas exclaims.

"You're asking me? Eh, I think that one must've slashed me as we spun." He heaves.

"Vanitas this isn't good." Roxas says as he places a hand on his shoulder.

"Nah, it looks worse than it is." Vanitas assures.

Roxas feels his heart drop at how suddenly pale he is. Then after another breath, Vanitas is about to collapse. If Roxas hadn't dived for his underarm, he would've crashed into the brick.

With one arm around his shoulder, Roxas heaves Vanitas to his feet. "Okay, okay. Vanitas . . . Vanitas!" Roxas calls.

He hears him breathing, but he's pale and the red keeps spreading out from his midsection.

"Ah, fuck!" Roxas swears. He quickly sets Vanitas on the ground and rips away a piece of the boy's cloak and wraps it around his stomach. "Come on hang in there, Vanitas."

Vanitas' head wobbles to the side.

"Hey!" Roxas pats his cheeks and manages to make his eyelids flutter. "Look at me, look at me. You're going to be okay."

Vanitas barely nods as his head droops again and Roxas has to hold his chin to that it doesn't give himself whiplash. Roxas takes one of Vanitas' arms and pulls it over his shoulder, then the other arm and heaves the boy onto his back. Grunting at his stitches, Roxas positions Vanitas more comfortably.

Keeping his gun in on hand, Roxas uses his other to hold Vanitas' wrists together as he starts to run once more. Puddles gouge the street as a result from an early rain shower and Roxas remembers the sea being behind them as they walked away from the docks. Using that as reference, Roxas keeps to the back allies as he tries to find sails in the distance. With Vanitas being heavier than he looks, Roxas has to steady his breathing and level his run so that Vanitas doesn't slip from unbalance.

Roxas tries to ignore the heavy thumping of Vanitas' body against his back as he runs, keeping his attention ahead and making sure his grip on Vanitas' wrists are tight. He knows what he is doing is risky, but with the town now on high alert from the fight, Roxas can't afford to bring Vanitas to a town doctor, and he can't heal Vanitas himself since he doesn't have the proper equipment. Plus, Vanitas is already pale and losing blood as it is, and with where his mind is now, Roxas fears he will only end up making the wound worse.

Finally after another ten minutes of running, sweat dripping down his neck and his back surely to have a bruise on the lower spine due to the hilt of Vanitas' dagger, Roxas sees the sails of the docks. He stops for a moment, his head feeling inflated. Still, he doesn't lean Vanitas against the wall now loosen his grip on his wrists.

Roxas coughs, a little bit of bile rising at the back of his throat. He swallows it down and decides it is safe enough to walk to the docks. He shifts Vanitas, more than relieved to have his full weight on his stitches, which burn from friction.

He half carries, and drags Vanitas up to the bridge before screaming. "Ventus! Axel!"

The captian's quarters open immediately and Ventus' head pops out. His eyes immediately widen and he rushes out towards the boy. Roxas' screams attracted a few of the men working on the forecastle deck and they nearly stop what they're doing, only to resume once Ventus makes it to the boys. Axel comes out quickly and immediately takes Vanitas off of Roxas. He carries the boy in his arms.

"What happened?" he demands.

"Some low-lives tried to skin me alive. The reward of the posters managed to attract the wrong kind of crowd." Roxas explains through heaves of air.

"Were they men of your father?" Ventus asks as he helps Roxas.

"Maybe, I don't know. But they did seem to recognize me enough even with the limited details of the pictures."

"Well, I'd ask who this is, but I'll let you explain once he's taken care of." Axle says as he carries Vanitas to his quarters.

"I'm sorry." Roxas breathes. "I had nowhere else to go."

"Don't be sorry." Ventus assures. "We'll help him."

"Where's Vexen?" Roxas asks.

"Out in town; wanted to get some new mixtures for his experiments." Demyx chimes.

"Well what now?!"

"Don't worry." Ventus coos. "I'll take care of it."

Roxas quirks an eyebrow as Ventus leads them to the Captain's quarters. With Axel leaving the door open, Roxas makes quick with himself in getting to a seat so that Ventus can tend to Vanitas. Axel has already pulled out the health kit and has a sprawling of tools set up; a couple of syringes, gauzes wraps, antiseptic wipes and a needle and thread.

Ventus sets Roxas in the chair at the captain's table and goes over to Vanitas, whom Axel has laid on his bed. Roxas waits for the boy to squeak and run out of the room green in the face, but as he pulls away the torn, no blood-soaked piece of Vanitas' cloak his face obtains a seriousness like Roxas has seen on Zexion's face when learning to cast a spell.

Ventus first takes a dry paper towel and first pats it dry. He uses up at least three full sheets before he takes the syringe and an ampoule containing a clear liquid and sucks it dry. Ventus then proceeds to inject the needle into Vanitas' arm and after a quick cringe in the face, Vanitas relaxes. Ventus then opens a small pack of antiseptic wipes and starts to clean away the rest of the blood. From where Roxas is sitting, it doesn't look that deep, but rather long.

Axel hands Roxas a glass of water and kneels down in front of him. Roxas' eyes divert as Axel places his long-fingered hand on Roxas' knee and pats the blonde's forehead dry. Roxas didn't realize how moist with sweat he was until he feels it absorb into the towel. Axel has a wet rag in his other hand and presses it to Roxas forehead. Roxas sighs as the coolness offers relief to his hot cheeks. Axel gently smiles as he pats Roxas' red cheeks.

"You did great." He says to the boy.

"Thank you."

"Okay, now take off your jacket." Axel orders.

"What?" Roxas questions, and the order seems to attract Ventus' attention if only for a moment. Roxas could see him peering over his shoulder.

"You had quite the run, and you need to cool down." Axel reminds. "I don't want you to get dehydrated. Didn't I tell you to be careful?"

"Hmm," Roxas smiles. "Now that's funny."

Roxas proceeds to take off his jacket, the moistness of his underarms makes him want to take a nice, cool shower. Axel leaves to get a new rag, and Roxas returns his attention to Ventus and Vanitas.

Ventus is now pressing a few squares of gauze to the cut on Vanitas' stomach and then carefully taping it down. Roxas is so lost in his staring that he jumps when he feels a coolness on his shoulders. He looks up to see Axel with a soft expression. Roxas sighs and relaxes as he feels Axel wipes the cool rag along Roxas' shoulders and around his neck. Roxas can't stop the moan as Axel massages his neck.

"You okay?" Axel asks.

Roxas looks down to the half empty glass of water and nods as Axel massages lower on his neck.

"How is he, Ventus?" Axel asks.

"Not bad, he actually has a few little cuts, but they shouldn't be too bad." Ventus reports.

Axel nods and as he folds the rag to pat Roxas' forehead, he walks around and kneels again down in front of him. "I'm sorry." He ears Roxas say.

"What?" Axel quirks as he tries to get the boy to look at him.

Roxas lifts his head and repeats, "I'm sorry. I-I I know this is so suddenly last minute and stuff but I -"

"Roxas, stop." Axel chuckles.

"It's fine." Ventus assures over his shoulder. "You had no other choice."

"That's right. You did what you had to do. We'll help him, but you'll have to talk about this to us later. Fair enough?" Axel negotiates.

"Fair enough." Roxas agrees.

Axel smiles and nods. He rises to stand, his knees cracking in the process. "Okay, you look less flushed now. Can you walk? How do you feel?"

"A little lightheaded, but not the dizzy kind." Roxas says.

He stands, and after a wobble regains balance and finishes his drink of water, feeling better with every sip. He goes over to Ventus who tapes down the gauze, Vanitas relaxed in a drug induced coma. Roxas takes and drags a chair over next to Ventus who still doesn't react while he concentrates on Vanitas. After finishing with a bandage similar to what Roxas has for his stitches, Ventus gets up and disposes of the blood soaked paper towels and scraps of the medical supplies.

"He should be fine. The painkiller will keep him asleep for a while, and then when he awakes we need to feed him some pills." Ventus explains.

"How long is a while?" Roxas nearly demands.

"At least a handful of hours." Ventus says.

Roxas nods and scooches his chair closer to Vanitas. Now that the boy has drifted away on the painkillers, Roxas' stress seems to deflate. Ventus makes Roxas eat some stew and bread, though Roxas doesn't leave Vanitas' side. Axel can't help but feel slight jealousy towards the black-haired boy, but he knows his feelings are childish and also that it'd be pointless to try and make Roxas leave and lets him tend to him while Ventus and the crew gets some rest.

"I'll be down below in the cabins if you need anything." Axel says.

Roxas nods, but doesn't even look at Axel. Axel sighs and shuts the door behind him.

Alone in the cabin with Vanitas, Roxas sits on the stool, holding Vanitas' hand. After a while, Roxas fingers find his face. Roxas touches parts of him he has never had cause to touch before. His heavy perfectly shaped eyebrows, the curve of his cheek, the line of his nose, the hollow at the base of his neck. Roxas traces the outline of stubble on Vanitas' jaw and finally work his way to his lips. Soft and full, slightly chapped. His breath warms Roxas' chilled skin.

How could he so easily looks to vulnerable when he's sleeping? Does this happen to everyone? Just this morning Roxas was, light and silly from a kiss left by Axel, and now it's like that didn't even exist. Now it feels like Vanitas is that fourteen year old boy Roxas was forcefully introduced to, who always was as stubborn as a bull. Roxas thinks of the moments they've had together, spending afternoons spilling blood, the day Roxas taught him how to shoot, that time Roxas twisted his knee and Vanitas carried him home. The kiss they shared the night before.

Suddenly Roxas wants so desperately to relive that moment despite it being only a second long. It was long enough to last with Roxas. Roxas rests his head forward on his forearms. He stares at Vanitas and how relaxed he is. It's truly an incredible sight as he usually has such a serious look or smirk. Here he seems, normal.

Roxas fiddles with the hairs above his ear, the same place Vanitas had placed his lips in comfort. In a small flicker of courage and yearning, Roxas leans forward and kisses Vanitas' lips. His lips are soft and warm, just like Axel's only they're smaller and feel more fitted to his own.

Vanitas' eyes flutter open and he looks at Roxas through a haze of opiates. "Hey, Roxy."

"Hey Van." Roxas says.

"Did we make it?" he asks.

"Yeah, I carried you fat ass all the way to the ship. You're okay." Roxas whispers.

"Wow. You're not as weak as you look." Vanitas says.

Roxas chuckles and brushes the back of his fingers against Vanitas' lips. Vanitas purses his lips and kisses Roxas' fingers.

"I'm glad you're here." Vanitas says. Roxas smiles remembering he said the same thing to Vanitas.

"I'm always here for you." Roxas smiles.

Vanitas manages to smile back before the drugs pull him back under.

* * *

Ventus now dressed in his nigh clothes gets into bed and sighs after conferencing with Axel about leaving Roxas in the cabin with his friend. Ventus blows out the candles of his end table and burrows into the quilts of his bed. With the nights ending in chaos of bloodshed, Ventus can definitely say he feels it depriving his sleep.

He manages to drift off to sleep easily, but however much later he's awoken by the creaking of the door. Ventus' eyes open and he tries to look over his shoulder. His door is open despite him being sure he closed it. Groaning in annoyance, Ventus pushes to a sitting position and rubs his eyes.

Lazily getting out of bed, Ventus yawns as he approaches the door. Closing it shut he turns around and then sees shadow movement. Ventus looks around, startled, his heart already tripling in speed.

Just as he rules it could be a trick of the eye, someone grabs him from behind.

Ventus starts to scream, but a hand claps over his mouth. It smells like ale and is big enough to cover the lower half of Ventus' face. A strip of dark cloth covers his eyes, and a new pair of hands ties it at the back of his head. Ventus struggles to breath as he hears men's voices argue quietly with one another.

"Come on! Get him out!" One hisses.

"Alright!"

There are two hands on his arms, dragging him forward, and one on his back, shoving him in the same direction, and one on his mouth, keeping his screams in. Three people. Ventus can't fight three people.

As he hears a creaking of a door and a hurrying of footsteps, he hears one of the men say, "Man, I can't wait to get that reward!"


	24. Chapter 23

"Keep his mouth covered!" one of the voice orders.

"I wonder how it'll sound when this little boy will beg for his life." Another says with a chuckle.

Ventus tries to focus on the hand on his mouth. There must be some way that he could get it off and alert Axel or Roxas, though he refuses to lick it. Ventus clenches his teeth and breathes through his nose.

He hears the creaking of the wood bridge that leads them down to the docks. Ventus presses his lips together to keep from screaming. If they are leading him away from the boat, he knows that they plan to do with him. Ventus thrashes, and their rough skin grates against his, but Ventus knows it's useless. He screams too, knowing that Roxas will hopefully hear him.

"Get him off, come on!"

Ventus wheezes as he feels the man's breath against the back of his neck.

"Ha! Not so tough now are you?"

A weight drops in Ventus' stomach.

The hands push Ventus around and a pair of arms reach up from behind Ventus under his armpits and lock tight. Ventus can feel the world spin and he feels his spine slam into another body. Judging by its density, it's a wall. Hands press his back into the body behind him.

A heavy hand gropes along Ventus' chest. "You're not very strong, even for an eighteen-year-old." The other man laughs.

Bile rises in his throat and he swallows the bitter taste.

"Oh, I think I found something!" His hand drifts down near Ventus' groin and squeezes. Ventus bites his tongue to keep from screaming. More laughter.

The mysterious hand slips from his mouth. It grips his jaw and tilts his head to the side. The sleeve of his tunic slips from his shoulder. Ventus feels dry lips and teeth grazing his skin and nibbling on his neck. Ventus can't stop the moan from escaping his mouth. Now that his mouth is exposed, it vibrates through the air.

"Oh, I think he likes it!" another deep voice says.

A gunshot rings out and one pair of the hands releases him. Something warm splashes against Ventus' cheek.

When the hands let go of him, Ventus brings his heel up hard, between his other caper's legs. A high-pitched scream hitches in the attacker's throat. Ventus thrashes again and slumps to the ground. This time, he bites down as hard has he can on the first arm he finds. There's a scream and Ventus clenches his jaw tighter, the cooper taste of blood in his mouth. Something hard strikes his face. White heat races through his head. It would've hurt if the adrenaline wasn't coursing through him like acid.

One of the remaining men wrenches his trapped arm away and throws Ventus to the ground. Ventus bangs his elbow against the splinter wood of the deck and brings his hand up to remove the blindfold. A foot slams into his side, forcing all the air out of his lungs. Ventus gasps and coughs and screams. Ventus claws at the back of his head as someone grabs a handful of his hair and slams his head against the corner of a cargo crate. The scream comes from pain as it leaves his mouth, and leaving him dizzy.

Pain throbbing through his muscles, Ventus clumsily and frantically fumbles along the side of his head to get a grip on the blindfold. Ventus drags his hand – which seems to have tripled in weight – taking the blindfold with it and blinks. The scene before him tilts sideways and bobs up and down. Ventus can see someone running away – one of the large men. Ventus' hand fumbles for something to grab on. But his hand keeps slipping and his arm isn't strong enough to hoist him to his feet.

A thick hand wraps around his throat and lifts Ventus, the thumb pressing Ventus' Adam's apple, effecting his breathing. The man's hair is shiny and sticking to his forehead. His pale face is contorted and his teeth gritted as he holds Ventus up. Spots appear on the edges of Ventus' vision, crowding around the attacker's face, black and grey with blue. Ventus' stomach clenches and he actually hopes he vomits so that it'll get the man to release him. His breath reeks of yak meat and milk. Ventus' lungs scream for air.

There's another gunshot, and Ventus is released. He lets himself drop to the ground in dead weight. The world dips and sways around him, and someone is screaming from the ship. There's thumps, kicks and groans.

Roxas stands on the main deck, wielding his pistol as Axel draws his sword and charges the trio of men.

Ventus blinks a few times and focuses as hard as he can on the only face he can see.

Axel blocks the deathblow of one and kicks him in the stomach, then slashing his chest and body slamming him into the water. Red water begins to pollute the blue.

Suddenly a fist plows into Axel. Pain stabs his jaw and spreads across his face, making his vision go black at the edges and his ears ring. Then he's met with a hard kick to the stomach. The mysterious foot forces the air out of his lungs and it hurts, hurts so badly he can't breathe, or maybe that's because of the kick, he doesn't know, he just falls. With another stabbing in the face, he's kicked off the bridge and his back smacks onto the docks.

Axel hair then gets grabbed with one hand and gets punched in the nose with the other. This pain is different, less like a stab and more like a crackle, crackling along his brain, spotting his vision with different colors. Axel's face is wet. Bloody nose. The blood streaming from Axel's nose is thick and dark and covers his fingers in seconds.

Ventus tries to cry out Axel's name but the urge to vomit forces Ventus over in a hunch and he convulses bile and acid that burns the back of his throat.

There's the harsh sound of flesh being impaled and the whiz of metal in the air sends shivers down Ventus' spine.

"Oh gods! No! No, please!" he hears. Then there's a scream, but it's cut off by a stabbing sound and the choking on blood. There's a whoosh of fabric. Ventus can hear the sound of the blade twisting inside the flesh and the sound of the body falling to the ground, moistened clothes sloshing against the ground. There's the sound of gasping before there's another thump against the ground.

Then it's quiet.

Ventus sniffs and sloppily wipes his mouth. He spits the last of the bile and wipes his chin with the hemline of his tunic.

Ventus jumps as a hand places itself on his back.

"No!" Ventus croaks and immediately tries to wriggle away. "Don't fucking touch me! No-!"

"It's okay. It's okay."

"No!" Ventus still struggles suddenly wailing with harsh bursts of screams.

The hands fumble to Ventus' arms and turn him to look forward. His eyes blurry with tears, Ventus can only blink in order to see.

"It's me. It's me. Look." A soft, cool voice speaks.

Ventus clenches his teeth and keeps his eyes closed. The voice speaks again, the hands moving up to cup Ventus' face.

"Look." it begs. "It's me."

Ventus opens his eyes and sees Axel, fresh and dried blood on his face, eyes wounded. The green standing out against the red on his face and hair.

"They tried to -" Ventus sobs, bursting into tears.

Axel cups one hand behind Ventus' head and pulls him into his chest. "Oh Ventus. It's okay." He wraps one arm around Ventus back and suddenly begins to rock him back and forth.

"Axel." Ventus sobs. Ventus clings to Axel for his dear life and curls into him to deeply.

"It's okay. It's okay now." Axel nuzzles his face into Ventus' hair and kisses his head. He holds Ventus there, both on their knees and in embrace. Axel looks all around and only finds at least three to four people present.

But there's red everywhere. In puddles and in splatters across the deck, it leeches and stretches and smears, reaching the stone of the road. It encircles them both and stains the water to the left-hand side.

Axel continues to kiss and rock Ventus out of his hysteria state. And it works enough that his sobs start to slow. Axel pulls away and cups Ventus' face. He doesn't know if Ventus will register any of it, but he knows that all the boy has to do it see his face and it'll be enough to calm him.

Ventus manages to register enough of what Axel is saying. They'll go back on the ship and he will stay with Ventus for the rest of the night and they will tend to his wounds.

"Can I touch you?" Axel gently asks. Ventus nods and sniffs, but stills sobs.

Axel's hands wrap around Ventus' arms, right where the join with the shoulder. Axle pulls Ventus over the puddle of vomit and against his chest, gathering Ventus into his arms, easing an arm under Ventus' knees. Ventus presses his face into Axel's shoulder and tries to listen to his heartbeat.

As the sound of the footsteps become wooden, Ventus feels the incline and opens his eyes. The crew is all out with their faces concerned or curious. Ventus' eyes wander around until he reaches the middle of the deck. His heart jumps into his throat.

Roxas stands on the main deck, his swords drawn and soaked with blood. It's doesn't stain the weapon, but it drooling with the crimson liquid. It slides down the blade and drips at the tip in small puddles at his feet. Bits of body parts lay scattered around him, one man's throat is red and his eyes glazed in the far seeing stare of the dead. He is missing a hand and half of one leg. Another has his intestines spilt out along the deck, a long piece of what looks like sausages stretches across the deck. His face is unrecognizable except for a small plate of bone where his skull would be located. Roxas is in his guild uniform once again, mask and hood pulled over his head and face, and it is covered in red. His chest is covered in crimson. _Covered_. It dominates in a splatter and splotches his pants and dots across his mask. His face contorted in anger. His eyes are a cold, dark blue.

In that moment, Ventus sees Roxas as who he is. Violent. Sociopathic. Nefarious. Deadly.

Ventus feels his stomach growl, and averts his eyes as a small burp escapes his mouth. The blood puddle is thick enough that Axel's feet splash as he walks through it to get to the cabins. Ventus hears the opening of the door to his cabin and sees Vexen already there cleaning the needle of a syringe. Ventus closes his eyes and whimpers.

Blood is a strange color. Darker than you expect it to be.

Roxas hunches over the basin on the vanity in Axel's quarters. With him being occupied with Ventus in his quarters, Roxas returned to wash himself of the crimson. He splashes the water on his face and scrubs his cheeks with his nails. While doing this, he strangely recites his knowledge about blood in the human body.

It's what carries oxygen to the various parts of the body. It receives oxygen to the various from the lungs, flows through the body and then delivers this oxygen where it is needed before making the round trip back to the heart where it is passed again to the lungs.

Roxas splashes his hand in the water, watching it turn pink as he washes with a white rag.

Human blood is always red. The only difference is that when it is oxygenated, it is a bright red, and when it is depleted of oxygen, it is a darker hue.

Looking in the mirror, Roxas' cheeks are pink but it's more from the scrubbing rather than the stain of blood. Roxas uses the soap and continues to wash what he can, stripping out of his once again bloodied uniform and pulling on a pair of pajama pants. He wraps them in one of Axel's pillowcases and stores it in the one of many trunks.

Roxas sits at Axel's table and takes a rag, and starts to wipe off his blades. He glances over at Vanitas who still remains asleep despite the chaos and the gunshot Roxas first unleashed on the trio of intruders. Roxas clenches his jaw tight as he thinks of the men that came in and mistook Ventus for him, kidnapping him in an attempt for the reward set out by his father. His lip contorts into a smile and he can't decrease the weight of the burden of fault crushing his shoulders.

He needs to get home faster. Whether his father is sending out these men or not, he can't keep putting Ventus in danger of getting mistakenly kidnapped. At that point the boy won't be sane enough.

Roxas growls in frustration and spins his knife and stabs it into the table.

The pain is a constant throb in Ventus' head, cheek and ribs. Ventus opens his eyes to the ceiling of his cabin. He hears the sound of water splashing, his throat tightening at the thought of it being blood. But this time it's from a basin on the vanity and not blood or polluted sea water. Seconds go by before he sees definite edges in his surroundings, the lines of a doorframe and chests and bookshelves and ceilings.

Ventus shouldn't move; it will make everything worse. He sees a blue patchwork quilt under his head and winces as he tilts his head to see where the water sound is coming from.

Axel stands at the vanity with his hands in the bowl. Blood from his nose turns the sink water pink. He has a cut at the corner of his mouth, but he seems otherwise unharmed. His expression is placid as he examines his cuts and forming bruises, turns off the water, and dries his hands on a towel. Ventus remembers getting here, even seeing Vexen preparing a syringe of anesthetic.

Axel wipes his face and gets a new one dipping it in another bowl of water. He wrenches it out and folds it three times before turning towards Ventus. As Axel walks towards him, Ventus considers closing his eyes and pretending to be asleep, but then their eyes meet and it's too late.

"Your hands." Ventus croaks.

"My hands are none of your concern." Axel replies. He rests one knee on the mattress and leans over him, slipping the wet rag onto Ventus' forehead. Before he pulls away, Ventus reaches out to touch the cut on the side of his lip but stop when he realizes what he's about to do, his hand hovering.

_What do I have to lose_? He asks himself. Ventus touches his fingers lightly to Axel's mouth.

"Ven," he says, speaking against Ventus' fingers. "I'm all right."

To Ventus' surprise, Axel leans in and rests his forehead on Ventus', his hand cupping his face, his thumb skimming Ventus' cheekbone. His fingers are careful.

"I'm glad you're here." Ventus croaks.

"I'm sorry that this happened to you." Axel replies. He moves his thumb absently over Ventus' cheekbones, back and forth.

Ventus gives a weak smile and tries to assure Axel that it wasn't his fault. But his voice chokes up and he starts coughing. Axel fetches him some water and sets it aside to help Ventus sit up. Axel grips Ventus' shoulder with one hand and holds Ventus' head steady with the other as Ventus pushes himself up. Pain rushes through his body in sharp bursts, but he tries to ignore it, stifling a groan.

Axel places his hand on Ventus' forehead to keep the rag from falling. Ventus replaces it with his own. "You can let yourself be in pain, Ventus." he says. "It's just me here."

Ventus bites down on his lip. There are tears on his face, but neither of them mentions or even acknowledge them.

"Roxas wouldn't let simple pains stop him." Ventus says.

Axel stiffens, then sighs. He takes the towel from Ventus, his fingers brushing Ventus', and goes over to the basin again to dip it once more in water. Ventus keeps his hand down, too eager to relax his arm to object. When Axel comes back over, he holds it against Ventus' head himself.

"You're not Roxas." he says softly.

"I didn't say I was; but I can try to be." Ventus counters.

"You shouldn't."

"Why?" Ventus pleas.

Axel looks to him sternly, and Ventus drops his gaze, staring at the hem of Axel's tunic. Sometimes Ventus sees Axel as just another person, and sometimes he feels the sight of him in his gut, like a deep ache.

"I'll answer that with another question: Why do you want to be like him?" Axel rephrases.

Ventus' entire body stiffens at Axel's words. He lifts his eyes to Axel's, and swallows thickly. What was he supposed to say? He wants to be like Roxas because Axel seems to prefer Roxas' personality? Because he feels like he's competing with Roxas for Axel's affections? How much more childish can Ventus sound?

He lowers his eyes. "I don't see it as trying to be like him, more like I'm using it as a . . . motivation." Ventus says.

"How?" Axel asks. He lowers his hand and lets the rag rest on his knee. Ventus feels his forehead grow with heat.

"Well because, if he can handle toxic nightmares and walk away unscathed, then I should be able to handle this." Ventus says.

"But Ventus, you have to take in consideration that Roxas has probably seen worse." Axel reminds. "He's an assassin. He's been able to swing a blade since before he was potty-trained. And as for you . . ." Axel pauses to carefully word his next sentence. "You're still growing used to fighting and blood, and I don't want you to push yourself too hard."

"I'll never find my potential limit if I don't push myself. And Roxas is like . . . he's like I said, my motivation."

"But to me it's you denying who you really are just so that you can _pretend_ to be someone you're not."

The idea nauseates Ventus. His stomach writhes, partly because he knows Axel makes a good point but Ventus doesn't want to admit it.

"Well that's what you seem to like." Ventus suddenly strikes, his tone hollow.

Axel's posture goes rigid, his straight eyebrows are drawn low over his eyes. Ventus can almost see the color in his emerald eyes shirt to a cold shade of pale jade. "What does that mean?"

Heat rises into Ventus' cheeks. "You know what that means."

"No I don't." Axel harshly counters, his tone suddenly jumping in volume.

"You've been fondling over him since he came onto this ship." Ventus says, his anger starting to boil. "The way you look at him and admire his skills and flips. I've never seen you look at _me_ like that even before he came here! You've barely looked at me since . . .!"

Ventus' throat suddenly clogs and he chokes on his words, and tears stream down his cheeks. Axel closes his eyes and exhales through his nose. He should've known Ventus would've brought the kiss up soon, only now Axel realizes that it should've been sooner as opposed to now where the boy is beaten and bruised, and Axel can't afford to yell at the boy while he's literally down.

"Ventus . . ." Axel coos. "You have to understand I've been trying to keep things professional around here."

Ventus looks up, and despite his raw cheeks and teary eyes, anger seethes beneath it like the bubbling of lava. "So you're giving me the cold shoulder because you don't want to be known as the captain who dates his cabin boy?!"

"No, because then if I do any acceptations towards you, or let you go easy on anything they'll think it's because we would be together. I don't want them to think I'm treating them unfairly."

"Axel they know me. They know I don't ask for much, and I do my work as hard and as dedicated as any of them. Hell I do even more then some of them!" Ventus counters.

He then looks away. Axel is silent and still for so long that eventually Ventus has to say something.

"You still haven't denied that you've been giving _Roxas_ special attention." Ventus says.

"Have you ever thought that I treat him ike that because I see you in him?" Axel snaps.

"What?"

"Sure the boy may have a tough exterior, but I can tell that he's only doing what he's been trained to do, and that's hide his emotions of sadness or vulnerability. Deep down, he's probably scared. He needs an outlet for all those emotions and he only knows how to do that by killing people. It's all an act, Ventus. Roxas is lost. And I figured you have no room to talk since you've been buddying up with him!"

"Because I wanted to see what makes him so special to you!"

"So, you only befriended him because you wanted to see if you can try and do what he does, and hope that it attracts my attention?"

Ventus clamps his lips tight, and looks away.

"Ventus that is the most childish thing you've done! It's like a sister wanting to dress like her older sibling simply because she receives more compliments from people."

Ventus tightens himself and hunches his shoulders as a form of protection from Axel's words. They are sharp and precise, cutting the air and starting their way to Ventus' skin. This is wrong, the boys has been beaten and bloodied, but since they cat is out of the bag . . .

"And you know the worst part of it is? I think Roxas actually likes you." Axel says.

Ventus looks up, his expression in shock, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. At these words, Ventus feels a gentle shift take place inside him, like a set of scales tripping. His brow softens as he recalls the anxious expression on Roxas' face when he told him about the boy, Vanitas coming in late at night. The way Roxas held Ventus' hand sin comfort when he tried to interrogate the information out of him also comes to mind.

"Yeah, that's right. I've been paying attention too." Axel probes. "He seems comfortable around you. Relaxed. And I really thought you were trying to make him feel . . . contented when really, it's just you trying to see how he is and use it to your own advantage! That's horrible, Ventus."

"Shut up!" Ventus yells.

"Why? Because it's true?"

"Because you can't dare compare that, to what he's done the whole time he's been indoctrinated with us! He's killed people, Axel!"

"Oh, so now you _don't_ want to be compared to him?"

"No. I don't know!" Ventus screams in frustration and suddenly pulls the covers up over his head and flops back down onto the bed.

"Oh real mature, Ventus."

"Just go away." Ventus says, muffled beneath the sheets.

There's a moment of silence. A sob rises up from Ventus' depths, but he catches it before it can escape. He swallows hard, forcing it down again.

It feels like drowning.

Torn between hoping Axel would go away and wanting him to knock again, Ventus grows still, listening.

"Fine."

Ventus hears a heavy sigh, followed by feet shuffling on the carpet. A moment later, he catches the sound of the door creaking open and then closing tight, the latch clicking in place.

He is alone once more.

Ventus draws a shaky breath. Shutting his eyes tight, he wills the tide of despair welling up within him to subside. It fills anyway, leaving him to wonder if the battle for Axel's fondness, was one he can never win, because it is one he has already lost.

The thought makes him grit his teeth. Ventus gathers the pillow around his ears to block out the limited sounds of the ship, and soon feels a circle of moisture pressed to his cheek.

Axel stands leaning against the wall next to the door leading into Ventus' cabin and sighs. He feels his eyes water, but he blinks them away and sniffs. He looks up and down the hall and sighs. He makes his way up to the main deck. a few of the men got busy right away cleaning up the dead bodies and dumping them into the river. Not like anyone will notice, there's drownings at the pier all the time.

Looking up, he sees the dark velvet sky with its stars all out, a sheen of dust-looking stream stretch across. Looking up high, Axel can see a black mass standing in the crow's nest. A smaller blob of black circles before landing on the edge.

Exhaling, Axel pinches the bridge between his eyebrows and starts to climb the shrouds up the nest.

Roxas leans against the wooden mast of the crow's nest, reading and rereading the note sent to him by his father. He stares at it with low eyelids and a straight face. Charlie caws and cocks his head to the side to peek at the note.

Axel hoists himself up to the nest and smiles. "It's a lonely night."

Roxas looks up and only upturns the corners of his mouth. He glances back down at the note. "It's the best kind."

Charlie caws again and Roxas this time pets the crow on the neck. Axel climbs into the nest but stays to the edge as he observes the boy and his demeanor. Something is up, but Axel doesn't say anything since he'd rather have Roxas bring it up when he's comfortable.

But Roxas is silent for so long that Axel has to say something.

"May I ask what that is?" Axel says, pointing a lazy finger at the note.

"A note," Roxas says. "From my father."

Axel stiffens and takes two careful steps towards Roxas.

"I've had this for at least four days now." Roxas continues on. "He simply wants me to try and escape, to summarize it up."

"And kill us?" Axel finishes.

"Yeah." Roxas answers.

"Well, we will be heading out soon. Maybe you can reply or -" Axel takes more steps towards Roxas and Roxas shifts his head up, staring at Axel. Axel feels his blood run cold for a moment.

Roxas extends out his arm to Axel, and for a moment Axel stays put. He then reaches for the note, but Roxas then swings his arm out over the crows' nest and drops the note. Charlie caws and then swoops down, catching the note in his beak. He flies away from the ship and his silhouette quickly vanishes against the night sky.

Axel watches then turns his head back to find Roxas staring at him. He leans his hands against the edge and looks down at his feet.

"Okay, what's wrong?" Axel finally asks as he encloses the distance between them.

"I almost feel sorry for the boy." Roxas replies.

Instantly Axel feels his body shiver with goose pimples and he knows what the boy is talking about, also knowing better than to lie to him.

"How much did you hear?" Axel asks, suddenly worried.

"I heard enough."

"I'm sorry you had to hear it." Axel says. Roxas is silent, and Axel debates on whether to take a step back or to comfort the boy.

"I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted." Roxas says.

"I'm not going to justify what Ventus did, but in essence, it was out of innocence." Axel says. "He's still young."

"Axel . . . we're both young." Roxas says. "And I am not scared."

Axel looks to him his eyes gentle. "I apologize for saying you were, it was just an impulsive blurt of words. And for what you heard about Ventus."

"You need to stop apologizing for his wrong-doings, Axel." Roxas says. "They were his choices, not yours. And you hand no way of knowing."

"Still, as part of my crew, I feel like he reflects on what I'm about. Like how a child's behaviors reflects the parents." says Axel. Roxas looks to him with a placid expression.

"I feel so, stupid, and yet, I can't hate him for it." Roxas says. "Like I said, it's flattering he wants to be like me, but I'm not the proper role model. Whether for motivation of romance, I don't succeed well in either."

"Roxas . . ."

"Why didn't you tell me you kissed him, too?" Axel looks to find Roxas almost glaring, but still his face is neutral and it disturbs Axel. "Are you really just some low-life man whore?"

He's angry.

"The kiss surprised me." Axel says. "And how I replied, it was just, natural. But afterwards, I had realized what I had done, and I tried to keep things professional, for reasons I'm sure you understand."

Roxas continues to stare at the ground, preferably the toes of his boots.

"And things seemed fine, until you came along, and seeing you, and how you are, I didn't expect any of . . . this . . . to happen."

"What do you mean: 'how I am'?" Roxas says, his tone hard. "A scared little boy in need of cuddling? I'm not afraid. No matter dark and bloody things might get, I don't run away."

"I know."

"No you don't." Roxas says and he shakes his head, this time folding his arms and scowling. Axel doesn't say anything. He doesn't want this to end like with Ventus, he can't afford to lose both of them in the same night. "But you were . . . half right." He suddenly adds.

Axel looks up. "I don't have a proper outlet for the emotions that I do feel. I've been taught to kill my whole life, and it's . . . hard to change the habit."

"No one's asking you to change, Roxas."

"Even if, I wanted to, I don't think it'd be possible with the life I live in." Roxas says. His tone is softer.

"You can try to leave."

"Easier said than done." Roxas denies. He shakes his head again. He feels a buzzing in his chest, like muffled bees. "But I, am also at fault."

Axel looks to him. "Why?"

"I've done something things that, compare to yours. And in that mark, makes me a hypocrite." Roxas says.

"What did you do?" Axel asks. He doesn't feel the anger or urge to get Roxas to pry. Instead, he feels the air deflate as the truths are coming out.

Roxas shakes his head. "I feel like I can't tell you, not yet at least. I'm sorry if that's wrong of me -"

"Roxas," Axel interjects. "It's fine."

Roxas looks to him, Axel leaning in close, their arms nearly touching. He feels the warmth from Axel radiate, and with how things have gone over with Ventus, Roxas doesn't want there to be anymore fighting. Not tonight.

Looking up at him, how the moonlight is casting on his cheeks, illuminating his face, Roxas feels at peace. Or maybe he's just tired.

Roxas wants something he doesn't know how to express; he wants to press against the space between him and Axel until it disappears.

"Roxas, if you want to go home, we can take you there." Axel softly speaks.

"No. Not yet." Roxas almost whispers.

"There's something else though, it's fine if you don't want to tell me. But you should know you're losing your touch on the poker face." He smiles.

Roxas looks up and gives s visible smile. He even laughs only slightly, as it mixes with a breath.

"I'm just . . . confused. I thought I knew what I wanted, but . . . now I'm not so sure."

"It's because of us, isn't it." Axel asks.

"Yes, but not the way you're thinking. It's more of like an eye-opener. Yet I still want to be a part of my father's legacy, his empire that's been promised to me."

"Understandable."

Roxas turns to Axel and pushes off the side of the nest. "Is it really?"

Axel shrugs. "I may not have experienced it myself, but it's understandable where you're coming from. Things can relate to it."

"But it's so . . . annoying, not knowing what I want. Or fearing I can never have it." Roxas says.

"It's all up to you, Roxas. It's your life, your decisions." Axel says.

Roxas nods.

Axel can feel his cheeks warm at how close the boy is, and now perfect of a moment this is. But with him being confused, it can only be seen as more drama. But if Roxas did overhear their conversation along with their own kiss on the rooftops, would it be worth it just to feel his lips once more?

Then suddenly Roxas' hands are drifting up his chest and hold against Axel's neck. Axel is momentarily surprised, but he looks to Roxas and the boy's eyes glimmer like the rippling surface of water. He doesn't say anything, and Axel doesn't move. He simply stares at Roxas, and for some reason, feels his eyes water. He swallows and clears his throat.

"I think I've made one decision." Roxas mumbles. He ogresses the side of his face to Axel's chest. He feels Axel's heartbeat against his cheek, as fast as his own.

Roxas can't help but smile a little.

"Are you afraid of me, Axel?"

"Terrified." Axel replies with a smile.

Roxas then turns his head and hisses the hollow beneath his throat. Axel controls his breathing as he finally lifts his hands to Roxas' waist. Roxas wraps his arms around him and tilts his head. Axel's lips devour his own and Roxas sighs into Axel's mouth. Roxas knows how they fit together, the pressure of his lips on Axel's.

Unlike before, this kiss is different. Roxas can feel himself growing hungry for more; a burning deep desire that can only be quenched by his lips. Axel starts to kiss Roxas firmer, and as he feels Roxas hands wrap around his neck, Axel pulls back and Roxas gasps as the world blurs for a second.

He feels the pressure of Axel' hands by his underarms and his back bumps into the mast of the crow's nest. Axel's hands stay by Roxas' underarms as he continues to kiss the blonde. Roxas gasps for breath and moans quietly as he feels Axel's lips travel along his jawline to the nape of his neck, kissing the tender skin just under his ear.

Despite the rising heat, Axel's kisses start to slow down and Roxas can feel his sense crawling back from the oblivious depth they were banished to. Still Roxas, hands grip the back of Axel's neck and they press their foreheads together.

Being up here, high above the rest of the world, the presence of his father little if not there at all. All disapproving eyes averted, Roxas feels liberated in ways he only assumed could be felt while flying. But you don't have to fly to be free.

He still feels the warmth of the moonlight, the breeze of the ocean as if he's always known how the sensation.

Axel kisses him again and Roxas kisses back.

He doesn't feel like he's doing anything wrong.

All he feels is Axel. His hair. His skin. His lips.

The two of them in their own little space. They have each other memorized.


	25. Chapter 24

Axel watches Roxas' face carefully as they walk to the pub area, searching for any sign of disappointment. They spent the two hours sitting in the crow's nest and the yards and gaffs of the ship, talking and kissing and eventually climbing down so that Roxas could just check on Vanitas, who still remains asleep in Axel's bed. From there Roxas took Axel's hand and they started to walk down to the pub.

If anything, Roxas seems lighter now than he was before. He smiles more anyway.

When they reach the entrance, they separate. Roxas goes in first and walks to the table where he sits with Demyx and Zack. Axel comes enters second, a minute later, and sits down next to Luxord, who hands him a dark bottle. He waves it away.

With Vanitas still asleep and Ventus most likely not wanting to come down for dinner, also at least three to five men gone for cleaning up the deck, the pub is nearly empty and quiet.

"Where did you go?" Demyx strums his lyre, his feet propped up on the chair available next to him.

"I had to go and check on Vanitas." Roxas says.

"Oh right, your friend. Figures you'd deal damage and leave someone to clean up after you." He smiles and Roxas smacks his arm.

"Well if anything, I think I need to get home faster." Roxas says.

"What? Why?" Demyx asks.

"Seriously?" Roxas asks. "Demyx, Ventus got kidnapped because he was mistaken as me. And he's in bed as we speak probably traumatized and men are coming after me unless I get back home."

"I know, I know, but . . . still it's not your fault." Demyx tries to assure.

"How?"

"I don't know."

Roxas rolls his eyes and takes a sip from the tankard and smacks his mouth as the aftertaste is similar to something sour. He sets the bottle aside and wipes his mouth.

"So how much longer until your friend wakes up?" Demyx asks as he takes the bottle from Roxas.

"I don't know. It should be soon." Roxas assumes. "It's most likely the drugs are keeping him down."

Demyx shrugs and continues to strum his guitar. The notes trickle up and after a few high plucks dribble back down and retain along the lower neck in a casual song.

"Do you ever play anything else?" Roxas asks.

"I do. I remember playing piano, but that was a while ago." Demyx answers.

"You played piano?" Roxas questions with a smirk.

"Why are you so surprised?" Demyx counters smacking Roxas' arm.

"The only time he ever did play was when we went to one piano shop. We got him the stupid thing and he hasn't touched it since." Axel wanders over with Zack as Demyx chuckles.

""I've touched it!" Demyx defends.

"Cleaning doesn't count." Zack declines. "But at least you keep up on maintaining it."

Demyx sticks out his tongue and Zack takes swig from his mug. "Anyway, do you play, Roxas?" Demyx asks. "I'd imagine you would."

"I do, but not under normal circumstances." Roxas puts the word normal in air quotes.

"Why the air quotes around normal?" Zack imitates.

"Because I had to learn it when I went undercover as a pianist in a Duke's royal masquerade ball."

"Wow." says Axel. "They really force you to play parts, huh?"

Roxas shrugs. "I need to be convincing."

Suddenly Demyx leaps up from his chair and snatches Roxas' wrist. He pulls Roxas out from the chair and yanks him towards the door.

"Hey! Demyx!" Roxas shouts.

"Demyx?" Axel calls.

Axel looks to Zack who only shrugs his shoulders and the two get up following after them, Zack keeping his mug in hand.

Demyx tugs Roxas down the hall

Wordlessly he tugs Roxas out the pub and up the steps. They walk across the main deck to the other end of the ship where they descend once more and Demyx starts to smile as he tugs Roxas near a door towards the end of the hall.

"Demyx, I don't like where this is going." Roxas says.

"Just hurry up!" Demyx exclaims.

"I hate when he's like this." Roxas hears Zack say behind them.

Demyx stops at the door and pushes it open, the door creaking on rusty hinges. This one is a no-touchy, done in antique gold and soft pinks with hardwood inlay floor, heavy draperies, and fancy old chairs. In one corner, like a squat gentlemen in a tuxedo, stood a polished black grand piano.

"Oh." Roxas breathes.

Demyx eagerly hops into the room and motions Roxas inside. Roxas follows and smile. Glancing around, Roxas had to guess that this would be Demyx's room as its walls are decorated with instruments that both look playable or simply antiques from their travels.

Roxas strode towards the piano, carefully stepping around a low table with spindly legs. He moved to stand behind the instrument, where he let his fingers trial the keys.

"You said you play."

"Yeah but I barely remember any songs I played. It was last year." says Roxas.

"Oh a year ago is nothing!" Demyx claps a hand on Roxas' shoulder, giving it a shake. Axel and Zack hover in the doorway. "You can do this! Come on there has to be a favorite song you like."

"If I didn't know much about lullabies, I certainly don't know any piano songs. Once the missions was over I didn't want anything to do with it. I hated those suits." Roxas mumbles.

"Come on! Please! _Please_!" Demyx begs, and stretches out the last word but then a hand claps over his mouth. Roxas looks to see Zack standing behind him.

"Please, it's the only way to shut Demy up." he says.

Roxas goes over to the piano and sighs. He sits down on the bench and lifts the fallboard, gently placing it atop.

"Do you really not remember any songs?" Axel's voice suddenly chimes. Roxas looks up and finds him leaning one hand on the lid prop.

"There's one that I liked. And I would play it when I had free time, but that free time was slow lived when my dad discovered I was 'slacking off'. Didn't I tell you this?"

"Yeah, but I'm just curious." Axel shrugs. "If you don't want to, you don't have to."

"No!" Demyx whines. "Come on!"

Roxas chuckles and sighs. "Let me see . . ."

Ghosting his fingers over the notes, Roxas presses down on a few to try and find the starting note of the song that has been branded into his brain after his disguise attempt at a duke's party.

He starts with a clang of organized notes, trailing down octaves before trickling back up the higher spectrum. As the tinkle of piano notes trickled through the room, the men lean in, entranced by the piano as music poured from it. With Roxas' hands trailing back and forth over the keys, he plays a warbling of piano notes. The music picked up, the pattern of trickling notes matching Roxas' movements. His hands seemed to float over the piano keys. And the way he moved, jerky and quick between smooth slow-motion moments. An interlude of high notes trickled forth in a complicated pattern, accented by a few well-placed chords from the instrument's lower spectrum. This mixture of dark and light, high and low, hope and despair, works its hypnotic effect on the men, as though they were small children listening to an intricate story.

Roxas lets his imagination control his hands as they dance across the white and black key. Pictures and images flashing through his mind. He let his emotions fuel the notes, the song as he plays. The unrelenting pleasure he feels, the pain, the freedom. He lets it course through his body, his veins as he closes his eyes for a better canvas. Rocking forward and back ever so slightly as he played.

The men listen, hypnotized, as the piano carries on. Roxas lets himself escape like he used to and let's himself immerse into his world. When he was younger – before he was used to killing – he would try to go to this happy place in his mind. This place where he's thinking about anything but what's going on. Axel gently sits down next to Roxas, as his foot taps the pedals at odd intervals.

Then the music fades off, ending in a sharp clang of keys as though something about the song's execution had frustrated the composer. Roxas opened his eyes and found his hands slightly shaking and his heartbeat slowing down from the initial rush. He sighs and rubs his hand over his mouth.

"Wow." Demyx breathes. Roxas and Axel look to find Demyx sitting like a child and his hands pressed to his cheeks. Zack stands with his arms crossed and a relaxed "That was totally wicked! And you said you couldn't remember." he hollers and slouches back into his chair. Zack laughs and places a hand on his shoulder.

Roxas gives a small smile. "Thank you."

The clock chimes and all men look to find it at midnight. Zack yawns and stretches, "Well, I guess that's our cue to get to bed. It's been a long night."

"Yeah." Axel says. He pats Roxas' shoulder as Roxas is staring at the keys. "You want to take the cabin bunk or bring up a mattress?"

Roxas shrugs, and the thought suddenly occurs to him. He was busy thinking about his father and Vanitas and now Ventus' small betrayal that he didn't even think about where he was going to sleep tonight.

"Um . . ." Roxas is about to answer when Axel leans close once Demyx and Zack leave the room, and whispers in Roxas' ear, sending shivers down his spine.

"We could always share a bed." Axel smirks. Roxas immediately shoves him away, but he's smiling as he rises from the bench.

As they leave, Axel holds the door open for Roxas and as they leave the hallway, Roxas can't help but still smile just as he did when they first kissed. Demyx and Zack disperse to their rooms and Roxas settles with Axel that he'll make due with what's available in Axel's cabin, and Axel can stay in the cabins with the men. Once the men head down below deck, Axel leans into Roxas and places a quick kiss on his lips before leaving to follow.

When Roxas walks in, he finds Ventus sitting in the chair at Axel's desk. His head jerks up to Roxas and he goes rigid while Roxas simply raises his eyebrows in surprise before quickly narrowing them in disapproval. Ventus opens his mouth but clamps it shut in apprehension.

"If you're not going to say anything then your reason for being here is irrelevant." Roxas coldly says. He takes off his jacket and walks over to drape it over the other available chair. If Ventus was going to say something, Roxas wasn't going to keep his distance of occupy another area of the room like most people do to avoid awkward eye contact or space invasion.

Ventus is quiet, but watches Roxas as he goes over to the bed bearing Vanitas, and drags a stool over beside the bed and readies a syringe and ampoule. Ventus rises to stand from his chair and turns to face Roxas so that he can hear better; knowing himself that his voice will grow quiet as it does when he knows there will be an argument.

""What I did, doesn't deserve forgiveness, and my apology may mean nothing, but it's all I can give." Ventus says. He looks up, unaware he lowered his head and still only sees Roxas' back to him, not even sparing him a glance nor turning his attention to Ventus. Though Ventus doesn't get upset as he feels it's less than what he deserves. "Roxas, you don't have to answer me, but I just need to know that you're listening."

Roxas about to counter, when he stops and rethinks the events that's le dup to this pint. He doesn't owe Ventus anything, until he realizes that Ventus is oblivious to Axel and Roxas' shared kisses, and with the attack and fight with the captain, Roxas feels that the boy does deserve to apologize, maybe Roxas should even tell him what happened.

He sets down the ampoule and now filled syringe onto the metal tray and claps his hands, but keeps his back to Ventus.

"I won't ask for you forgiveness, because what I've done is virtually unforgivable." He starts. "It was selfish and rude and horrible of me to disguise and deceive our friendship for my own wants, especially with you coming from such a, dark lifestyle where no one can be trusted. And here I go giving you a sense of hope that I completely obliterate because I wanted the Captain's affections. And that makes me pathetic."

"Yes, it does." Roxas answers.

"But I want you to know that I'm deeply sorry and feel intense regret for what I did. And with your permission, I'm hoping that we can start over and try this again. But I do completely understand if you don't want to talk to me again. I just . . . wanted to right my wrongs and attempt an apology."

"Just because you say sorry doesn't make your doings right, or easier to forgive nor forget." Roxas says.

"I know but –"

"I can say proudly that I didn't trust you fully since the beginning. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't, hurt." Roxas continues. He shakes his head and sighs. "This is the perfect example as to why I don't have nor want friends. They earn my trust, my _respect_, and they go and jab a knife in my back."

"Roxas-"

"Just when I thought you' be different you, go and do this. And how do you expect me to get over it, just because you say you're apologetic and feel remorseful for your actions?!"

As he talks, he slowly turns to face Ventus; unphased by the tears in his eyes nor the childish quivering of his lips. To Roxas, that's all he is now; a child getting lectured by his parent for lying. Roxas' voice rises and soon his pity on the boy disintegrates and the idea of telling him about the kiss goes with it; a new supposition of Ventus assuming it should've been expected, takes its place.

"I'm not saying that you didn't shatter my trust in people; that was done long ago. You've only reassured me." Roxas suddenly rises from his seat and the notion causes Ventus to take two scared steps back.

Somewhere inside him, is a merciful forgiving person. Somewhere there is a boy who tries to understand what people are going through, who accepts that people do evil tings that desperation leads them to darker places then ever imagined. Roxas swears he exists, that he hurts for the repentant boy he sees in front of him. But if he saw him, he wouldn't recognize him. Deep in the core of Roxas' chest he feels his father's heir growing and infecting his heart.

All the secrets and education and rules and manipulative natures and drive for control and power infects his chest like a disease and his glare grows colder.

"From now on, I don't want anything to do with you anymore. Does that mean I'm leaving, no. This is my temporary home until I get back to my own, and I guess we'll be roommates until I leave, but that's all we'll be is roommates." Roxas then takes his seat again and turns his back to Ventus. "Should anything happen, I'll aid you and keep you alive for Axel's sake, but I'm done with you."

"Roxas please -" Ventus pleas.

"No!" Roxas snaps. "I'm done. I may have never believed in gods . . . but if you ever come near me again, I swear to them, I will kill you."

Roxas then goes back to adjusting the syringe and readies to inject it into Vanitas' arm. Behind him, he can faintly bear the rattled breaths of Ventus, before his feet run out of the cabin, slamming the door behind him.

Roxas presses down on the plunger and injects Vanitas with another painkiller. Wiping the area with an antiseptic wipe, he places a small bandage on it and sighs.

Ventus barges into his room and throws himself on his bed and sobs into his pillow like a child. His sobs mix in with screams, knowing that no one will come in to check up on him. He curls himself into a ball and tries to find reasoning that Roxas went too far, that he didn't deserve half the things Roxas said to him, but fails every time. He did deserve Roxas words, deserves to have them cut into his skin and inflict throbbing pain and leak blood. Like when they first met, Ventus feels the fear rise inside him again and he starts to make choking noises that always happen to him when he cries. He lies on his side, clapping a hand over his mouth as he lets the weight of what he's lost crush his chest.

Today he lost both Axel and Roxas.

Worst of all, Ventus keeps telling himself that Roxas didn't really mean it, that he'd apologize to Ventus for his words. As soon as he gets out the next morning, Ventus will go to the pub and find Roxas sitting there with two tankards and a soft smile on his face.

Deep down, though, he knew better than to hope for that.

Roxas anger had been too real, his words of warning too final.

Relatively speaking it isn't 'bad', but still Ventus can't help but treat like they've died. In essence, their friendship and trust did. The only thing he feels pride in was going to apologize to Roxas for what he did. He didn't have to but he chose to; out of willingness and not feelings of obligation. Hopefully Roxas will come to realize that as well. Ventus never said nor denied that he didn't care about Roxas at all, and he truly does feel sorry.

He decides to let Roxas have his anger moment and try again tomorrow, though deep down he worries that Roxas' words were true, and that if Ventus takes two steps towards him he will receive a knife to the stomach. But is he said that he was going to keep him alive for Axel's sake then perhaps there's a chance Ventus can try again.

But when he goes to bed that night, his dreams are filled with Roxas.

Ventus is running through the forest preserve of Atlantica and he feels something following him. Out of the corner of one eye, he thinks he sees the edge of a dark something. Then there's another at his left. Figures, tall and long, rush through the black gate of trees on either side of him, their movements too fast. Impossibly fast. He glances over his shoulder at the darkening stretch of road behind him, black like a ribbon of ink.

As he speeds up, so do the dappled forms.

They seem to multiply as, out of his periphery, he spots yet another. This one glides away from the others to rush along the group of trees directly beside him. It moves _through_ the trees, through undergrowth, dashing over the dry ground – a rippling form. Roxas catches him and pins Ventus to the ground and pulls out his dagger to cut his face. It digs deeply into Ventus' cheek, opening a wide gash. Then Roxas steps back and behind him are dark figures wearing black cloaks. Their eyes glow red and nothing can be seen but their disturbing smiles that stretch from cheek to cheek. Suddenly one of them tosses their head back, and lets out a long, eerie howl that is picked up by the other members. Roxas approaches with his knife twirling in hand and Ventus can feel himself begging for his life, but his voice is disembodied. Roxas begins to slice along Ventus' limbs and across his ribs, each one sending a new wave of pain through his body.

Ventus gives a strangled cry and wakes with a start, sweating and shivering at once. Cradling into a ball, he reminds himself that the men have given him his wounds, not Roxas. He wishes that Axel was there to hold him, but reminds himself that he can't until things have sorted out with Roxas.

Still, as his head throbs, he can't help but peak out into the hallway to assure himself that Roxas isn't right outside his door with dagger in hand.


	26. Chapter 25

The smooth softness brushes his arm first, the sensation faint as a sigh.

Roxas adjusts his position.

The slight silken something returns, though, tracing the curve of his jawline.

He lifts his hand to brush whatever it was away, sending a ripple through the still pool of his slumber.

But the ghostly slip of velvet will not relent.

It passes over Roxas' lips.

Someone gives his shoulder a shake and Roxas sits up. He's fallen asleep leaning over the edge of the bed, resting on his forearms, resulting in an ache in his lower back and his stiff muscles. He also slept on the sleeve of his tunic as well as the sheets that has now left creases in his right cheek. As he grows more aware, he realizes his fingers are locked with Vanitas'. Adjusting his stiff neck, Roxas looks up to find him propped up on one elbow, smiling smugly at Roxas. Roxas gets the sense he's been watching him for a while.

Roxas can't stop the warmth rushing to his cheeks as Vanitas chuckles and leans forward, kissing Roxas on the lips. It only takes a few seconds before Roxas jerks back and covers his mouth in surprise. Vanitas laughs, almost expecting the reaction, but this time it's because of Roxas kissing Axel.

There is still no sense of belonging, but Roxas knows he is growing to have more than certain feelings towards Axel. A kiss can't mean much, right? It's just lip contact. Still it feels . . . wrong.

"Nice to see you too." Vanitas smiles.

Roxas stares vacant at him for a moment before, without even thinking, Roxas jumps up and throws his arms round Vanitas, making some weird sound that combines laughing, choking, and crying. Vanitas holds Roxas so tightly that Roxas can't see his face, but Roxas can feel Vanitas shift so that he ends up pulling Roxas on the bed with him, and setting Roxas in his lap. Without much choice, Roxas has to adjust his legs so that he's straddling Vanitas and Vanitas sits up so that Roxas is higher, and Vanitas rests his hand in the crook of Roxas' neck.

Roxas starts to softly giggle as he strokes Vanitas' hair. He's seen mothers do this to sick children before, and while he doesn't know the effect of it, it seems to relax Vanitas, even erupting a small chuckle. Roxas can feel Vanitas wraps his arms around Roxas torso and he nuzzles into Roxas' neck. Shivers rattle down Roxas' spine as he feels Vanitas' lips press at the base of his neck.

Roxas pulls back and begins to assess Vanitas' situation, cupping his face and checking his cheeks and behind his ears and around his neck. Vanitas takes Roxas' hands, lacing their fingers and smiles.

"Roxas, I'm okay." He mumbles.

Still Roxas checks over Vaintas' wounds, carelessly lifting his shirt and examining the gauze and checking his arms for any cuts and forming bruises. Vanitas smiles and simply lets him, even raising up his arms to let Roxas lift his shirt. Meanwhile Roxas hopes that Axel doesn't walk in and sees them like this.

Once Roxas is finally done, he sighs and readies to move, when Vanitas places his hands on his waistline. "If I had known you'd b this caring I would've gotten hurt a long time ago." he smiles.

Roxas frowns and pushes his face away, trying to fight a grin. "Not funny." He says.

Vaintas lets him go and Roxas climbs off, fixing his hair. "Well, now that you're awake, maybe now Axel can get his bed back."

"Which raises the question, how the hell did I get here?" Vanitas asks as he hooks one elbow around a knee, propped on one hand.

Roxas sits once again on the stool and lifts Vaintas' shirt again and cut away the old gauze. "After the attack in the marketplace and your wound starting to bleed out, I needed to get you to safety. So I carried you to the docks where the ship's doctor treated your wounds."

Roxas starts to cut away the gauze with medical scissors when Vaintas sits up straight and strips off his shirt exposing his torso and the bruises that dot along one arm and across his chest. Roxas continues to cut the gauze like nothing.

"You carried me, all the way from the marketplace? Shit," Vanitas chuckles. "You're stronger than you look."

"You had doubts?" Roxas snickers. "I'd watch your tongue while I'm pressing scissors to your skin." Roxas snips the scissors for emphasis.

Vaintas laughs as Roxas carefully peels away the gauze. The wound has already started to scab over but still there are small incisions of flesh that poke out, causing Roxas to bite his lip.

"It looks okay, the bleeding has stopped, but I still want to cover it to avoid infection." Roxas instructs.

"Whatever you want." Vanitas shrugs. Roxas then rises to go and fetch more wraps and antiseptic wipes. He sits down once again and wipes around the area, causing Vanitas to wince. "How do you feel?"

"Okay. Just stings."

Roxas finishes wiping then wraps a thin layer around Vanitas' torso, pinning it to his side and gently patting it.

"Huh, who knew you were a doctor." Vanitas smiles.

"Gained experience while on missions." Roxas shrugs. "Uh, let me see if I can get you some temporary clothes."

"What? Why?" Vanitas protests. Roxas looks at Vaintas, raising an eyebrow and holds up Vanitas old shirt, a giant blood stain on his rib area. "Okay, fine. Can I borrow your guild uniform?"

"Not when those posters are out. Besides, they're dirty." Roxas says as he finds the bag of his bloodied clothes and stuffs Vanitas' shirt inside.

"How? Last I recall, you barely got a scratch." Vanitas snips.

"Well thank you, first of all. But, something happened last night, and it didn't end well." Roxas walks back over to the bed and drops the pillowcase stuffed with the clothes next to the bed. Roxas tries to avert his gaze as Vanitas stands up, careful to watch his gait and starts to unzip his pants.

"What happened?" he asks as he steps out of one pant leg.

"Uh, well you know that 'double' I have . . .?" Roxas quotes.

Vanitas pauses, immediately putting together the puzzle. "Oh shit."

"Yeah."

"I'm assuming he's okay?" Vanitas says.

"Yeah." Roxas repeats.

"Why so neutral?" Vanitas asks, stepping out of the other pant leg. He rolls them up and tosses them into the pillowcase.

"I'll explain later."

"And when will that be?"

"When we're alone, and before you ask, yes, I have the perfect spot. And this bag of laundry gives us the perfect chance to leave." Roxas says.

"Whatever you say. So where are my, 'borrowed' clothes?"

"Uh . . ." Roxas looks around the cabin, assuring himself that Axel won't mind if Vanitas borrows a shirt and pants. And this is quick reasoning since Roxas doesn't want to see Vanitas so exposed. "Hang on . . ."

He hears Vanitas chuckle. "Roxas, it's okay you can look at me."

"I understand, but I don't want to." Roxas retorts.

"Why? Does it make you nervous?" Vanitas grins.

"It's out of respect. Don't flatter yourself. I've been naked in front of the entire crew already." Roxas says.

"Damn."

"Not like that, you perv." Roxas snootily answers as he opens Axel's wardrobe. He rummages around, looking for clothes that would be appropriate for Vanitas to wear. It's still summer out, but it's not that hot anymore than compared to before. There's a nip in the air as autumn is fast approaching, plus with Hollow Bastion being on the edge of water, the lakefront adds a few degrees lower. Plus he should be used to wearing thick clothes in the summer with the guild uniforms and capes. Roxas digs around until he finds a black turtleneck and black trousers. "Here, these should do."

He turns and tosses them to Vanitas, who caches them with one hand.

"Get dressed so that we can get some food in you." While Vaintas dresses, Roxas tries to busy himself when he remembers the bandages he can now remove from his tattoo. He pulls down one strap of his tank top from last night and takes a razor, slicing away at the wraps until he finds the tattoo. It's pain is gone now, and the ink has settled into his skin. Roxas grins as he observes it in the mirror on the inside of Axel's wardrobe.

"Well that's new." Vanitas says as he adjusts the sleeves of the turtleneck. "When did you get that?"

"A couple days ago." Roxas smiles. "And I like it."

Vanitas shrugs. "Whatever floats your boat. It looks good. Makes you seem more, oh what's the word . . . ?"

"Normal?" Roxas finishes.

"No . . . I was going to say, natural. Or suitable. Somewhere along those lines." Vanitas wavers his hand.

Roxas chuckles. "You hungry?"

"Starving." Vanitas grins.

He changes into the clothes quickly and as he slides his feet into his boots and adjusts the laces, Roxas can't help but stare as Axel's shirt actually fits Vanitas, and it _fits_, hugging his torso and exaggerating his muscles and the skinny trousers lengthening his legs. Roxas leans against the of the door and waits for Vanitas to finish tying off his boots.

They enter out into the open deck, Vanitas walking up to the railing and inhaling deeply, sighing in satisfaction and leaning forward on his forearms. "Man, it feels like it's been forever since I've breathed fresh air."

"It's only been a day."

"Thank, Captain Obvious."

"Come on. There's food in the pub." Roxas ushers. Vanitas follows Roxas across the deck to the stern and down a set of stairs.

With the lanterns put out since it's morning, the hallway is fairly dark except for the light emanating from the pub. More than a week ago, if Roxas tried walking the hallways, it would rather clumsy given the unfamiliar environment, but now he walks it surefooted. He doesn't need light anymore. Roxas pushes open the door wider and enters the pub. Nearly the entire crew is down here, excluding Ventus who is most likely still in bed. Demyx is the first to notice them and his eyes widen in surprise at Vanitas, but he quickly covers with a smile of excitement.

"Roxas! Roxas' friend! Come, join us!" he motions over. Roxas looks back at Vanitas and smiles assuring him to come over."

"The boy's very open isn't he." Vanitas whispers to Roxas.

"Oh quite." Roxas says.

As they approach, Demyx stands up from his chair and extends his hand out to Vanitas. "Hey, nice to meet you, I'm Demyx."

Vanitas takes it without question and adds a smile. "Vanitas, likewise."

"Come, come! Sit down!" Demyx says as he motions to the two empty chairs. Roxas and Vanitas take their seats while Luxord, who was sitting with them, gets up and leaves to add more breakfast foods to his plate. "I have to say, it's nice to finally meet you awake and alive."

"Same, and I feel like I should thank you guys for being so hospitable especially from the sudden intrusion of mine." says Vanitas.

"I didn't know you knew these big words, Vanitas." Roxas teases, earning a smack from Vanitas.

"Very funny. But seriously I thank you for your kindness."

"Oh don't worry about it." Demyx waves him off. "Any friend of Roxas is . . . sometimes a friend of ours." Vanitas laughs and Roxas chuckles, softly shaking his head. "Anyway! You must be hungry, we have a breakfast buffet over there." Demyx points to the corner and Vanitas and Roxas spot the bar counter lined with plates of sausages, buttered pancakes, thick waffles, bacon and hash browns, bagels and a basket of fresh fruit. "Help yourself!"

"Thank you." Vanitas gets up from his seat and goes over to the bar where Zack hands him a plate.

Roxas watches Vanitas as he makes small talk with Zack as he walks down the lines of food. Roxas should get some food as well, but strangely enough he isn't that hungry. Still he should eat something if he plans on spending the entire afternoon with Vanitas, alone. He decides to settle for a glass of water and perhaps a bagel. As he's about to get up, he feels a tap on his arm. Roxas turns to find Demyx with a smug look on his face.

"What?"

Demyx shrugs. "It's just, you seem so much more relaxed."

"You want me to go back to being serious?" Roxas warns.

"No, I'm just saying, having Vanitas around could be a benefit if it means seeing you happier."

"We've just been . . . allies for a while."

"Mmhmm." Demyx leans back in his chair and starts to strum once more on the lute that never seems to leave his grasp.

"By the way, how could you afford all this?" Roxas asks, motioning a thumb to the buffet.

"Don't look so surprised. It's not like we're poor-at bastards here. Axel and I bought everything last night."

"When?" asks Roxas in surprise.

"Um . . . after you went to bed, or fell asleep. We went into town and for some food. It was his idea, and frankly I thought it was rather out of character for him, but, once I saw the food, I realized I didn't give a . . . _fuck_!" Demyx says.

Roxas laughs as he readies himself over to the line. He manages to sneak past Xigbar and another nameless crewmember and grab a plain bagel and smothering it with grape jelly. He sits down again with Vanitas and Demyx and sees Vanitas has loaded his plate with a small part of everything.

"Yeehs, when you say starving, you mean it." Roxas teases.

"Shut up."

As Vanitas eats a bite from one of his four pancakes, drooling with syrup, Demyx exchanges simple conversations with him.

"So, where's that one kid who looks like Roxas?" Vanitas asks.

"Ventus? hes probably still in bed, which is weird since he's not one to wake up late." Demyx says.

"It's understandable. I mean the kid was attacked. And from what Roxas has told me, he doesn't have much experience with violence." says Vanitas.

"Nah he doesn't. I mean I feel bad for him, but I don't really know what to do. So I'm just letting Captain Axel handle it." Demyx says.

Roxas has finished his bagel when he hears the door open and looks up to see Axel with sloppy hair walk in yawning. Quickly swallowing the last bite of his bagel, Roxas gulps down his water and gets up to approach Axel.

"Axel!" he calls. Axel turns his head and his lips stretch into a groggy smile. Roxas jogs up to him and gives a small smile.

"Morning." Axel smiles.

"I wanted to say thank you for the food." Roxas says as he sways from side to side, nervously fidgeting with his fingers.

"You're welcome." Axel smiles in return. "Though, I get the feeling that there's something else on your mind."

"There is." Roxas answers.

Axel looks over Roxas and glances around the bar until his eyes land on Vanitas. He's sitting with Demyx as he talks and takes a drink of orange juice. He turns his head, as if sensing Axel's stare and stares blankly at him. His expression is as neutral as Roxas'.

"Ah, I see. He's finally awake." Axel says. His tone is, unreadable in the sense that Roxas can't tell if Axel is disappointed, worried or annoyed.

"I let him borrow some of your clothes." Roxas suddenly blurts out. Axel jerks his head to Roxas with raised eyebrows. "I'm sorry I did it without your permission, but his clothes are dirty and we were going to take them into town for cleaning for he needed something to -"

Roxas' words are cut off as Axel takes his hand and leads him into the hallway. In a way Roxas is relieved since he couldn't stand hearing himself suddenly stuttering in front of Vanitas and the crew.

In the hallway, Roxas waits until Axel has shut the door to finish what he was saying, though this time it'll be slower and more controlled.

But he doesn't have the time for as soon as he opens his mouth to say something, Axel takes Roxas' face in his hands and places his lips on Roxas'. Roxas had just managed to take in a breath, to blink, to part his lips. Time freezes. Roxas' heart ceased to beat. His eyes flutter shut. He tilts to deepen the kiss and Axel's hand moves to cup his cheek. Roxas brings on hand up, his fingertips traces along Axel's cheekbone. Axel closes the distance between them as he pushes Roxas back, gently leaning him back until his spine pressed against the wall. Roxas lifts his arms to wrap around Axel's neck as he hovers over him. Roxas presses himself into his frame, breathes him in, took in the scent of him – that concentrated dose of spice and incense that sent his mind reeling.

Roxas clings fast to him. Axel grips him and pulls him closer. The cool tip of Axel's nose pressed into his skin as they kissed. Urgent. Gentle. So slow.

Soft, sweet demolition.

The feeling of Axel looming over him, it felt, safe. Roxas could feel Axel's tongue tease his own, flicking the tip as they kiss. And all too soon, Axel draws back, breaking them apart. Roxas' eyes flutter open and he stares up at him, eyes wonderstruck.

"You are too cute, you little brat." Axel grins, ruffling Roxas' hair.

"Hey!" Roxas' voice squeaks as he smacks away Axel's hand, but still he can feel his lips stretching into a smile. "You really don't mind?"

"No." Axle chuckles, shaking his head.

"You sure?"

"Yes." Axel chuckles. "It's fine. What else is he going to wear; Demyx clothes? Now putting him in those would be a cruel crime."

Roxas chuckles as he readies to pass Axel. "Oh, also, I don't know if you caught it, but I was going to go with Vanitas into town to the Laundromat."

Axel gives an apprehensive expression. "You sure it's safe for you? I mean, if those men thought Ventus was you, that means they might have physical details of you now."

"I know, but those men could've been sent by my father, with the intention of bringing me home. I'm sure I'll be fine." Roxas says.

"Okay, but just so you know, it's supposed to rain today. So try and get back before it does." Axel says.

"Heavy downpour?" Roxas asks.

"Yes, but usually those are passing storms, so if you do get caught it shouldn't be long."

"Okay."

"Oh wait!" Axel closes the door as Roxas is opens it. "I meant to ask you, did you speak to Ventus last night?"

Roxas turns to him with a stern and cautious expression. "Yeah, why?"

"I checked up on him, we didn't have a very good fallout last night, and he was still in bed." Axel says. "Did you say anything?"

Roxas lowers his head, staring at his shoes for a moment before he looks up. "Yes."

"Well, what did you say?"

"Um . . ." Roxas nervously shuffles his feet and then forces himself to stop when he realizes the childish behavior he was exhibiting. "I, simply told him how, hurt I was by his actions, and that I didn't want anything to do with him."

"Really." Axel says with a monotone.

"Yes. Saying it now, I realize it might've been too far and too harsh but -"

"But you were mad."

"Still . . . that doesn't mean I didn't mean it."

"Of course." says Axel.

"You're not going to make me apologize?" Roxas looks up to him.

"Not if you don't want to. It's all your decision, Roxas. I don't want to influence you. You need to do what you feel is right. It's up to you." Axel says.

Roxas looks down again, raking through his thoughts of the process of what happened last tonight sure he was caught up in a fit of anger, and some things he didn't really mean, but that's how he felt. He was so hurt by Ventus that he did want to kill him as punishment; such as he did back at the Oblivion mansion when two men disobeyed orders. "I admit it was probably too far, what I said . . ."

"How?"

Roxas eyes him carefully, furrowing his eyebrows. "I also said that . . . if he dares to come near me again, that . . . I would kill him." Axel stares blankly at Roxas for a moment and Roxas decides to finish. "And knowing me and my past, I'm pretty sure he's scared of me now."

"That would explain why he's still in bed." Axel speaks. Roxas shifts uncomfortably as Axel swallows. "Did you really mean that?"

"Well, I also said that I'd keep him alive for your sake but . . . no, I guess not."

"For my sake?"

"Yeah because you've known him for a while and I know if anything were to happen to him . . . I mean the gods forbid but, you know."

"Yeah. Yeah." Axel agrees.

"I know that I didn't really mean that part of it, but I don't know how to make it up to him, or to assure him that I was just mad." Roxas says.

"Hmmm," Axel thinks, tapping his knuckle to his chin in thought. "Okay, when you leave for town, I'll go in and talk to Ventus. Like I said I have some things to work out as well so, when you leave I can go into his cabin and try to talk to him."

"Okay." Roxas nods. "And I know what I said is bad, so I apologize for that as well."

"Thank you." Axel nods. He leans down and gives Roxas a quick kiss. "I'm sure he'll come around. He seems more than willing to put this all behind him."

Roxas nods and sighs heavily. They reenter the pub and find Vanitas now with no plate in front of him and a full glass of water. Roxas walks over to the table and gives Vanitas a small smile. Vanitas rises as Axel approaches. He extends out a hand and offers a smile.

"You must be Captian Axel." Vanitas says. "It's nice to meet you."

Axel takes Vanitas' hand and smiles back. "You too. Glad to see you're feeling better."

"I apologize for the inconvenience."

"Don't worry about it." Axel waves off. "It's fine."

"Did I not just say that earlier?" Demyx reminds.

Vanitas smiles and Roxas takes his finished glass of water up to the counter. He then heads for the door and calls to Vanitas. "Vanitas!" Vanitas, Axel and Demyx look up to Roxas. "I'm going to grab my things and then we can be off."

"Got it." Vanitas calls in return.

Roxas then leaves the pub and heads back to the cabin to gather his hunting gear. He closes the door behind him and goes over to the trunks. Getting out is something that he needs, especially with Vanitas. If only for a few hours.

His hands dig around in a trunk of which he took over from Axel. Roxas had bought extra hunting supplies while he and Ventus were in Atlantica. He finds the thick leather sheath that can hold twenty-four arrows, both a recurve and longbow, and waterproof boots for when they go and hunt ducks. Roxas loves all kinds of hunting gear, or at least for gear suited for the summer. Grabbing his leather jacket, Roxas tugs it on and zips it up to his neck. After snatching his burlap sack for last, Roxas hurries out towards the main deck where he finds Vanitas sitting on a barrel still talking with Demyx. When he sees Roxas, he smiles and ends the conversation with a friendly patting on Demyx's arms. Roxas tosses him the longbow and the two exit the ship. Once they leave the docks, they start to walk slinking along side streets and back alleys, before they increasingly speed up their pace. Before long Roxas and Vanitas are running like school kids towards the borderline of the village until they cross the threshold and the trees swallow them whole, their skinny trunks and thin, graceful branches reaching for the heavens as if hoping to scrape against the stars.

Vanitas and Roxas stroll lazily through the trees for a good few minutes, exchanging food Roxas stuffed into his sack before they left since it's assuming they'll be out all day. Roxas in such a pleasant mood with the solitude around him that he doesn't mind when Vanitas wraps his arm around him and pulls him close. Roxas wraps his arm around Vanitas and chuckles as the two start to look up around the trees for a perfect spot. Not many words are exchanged and both boys are fine with that. The quietness is rejuvenating.

Despite Roxas liking to hike up trees, with Vanitas they decide to find a perfect tree where one can sit up in the branches and the other can squat by the trunk. Vanitas enthusiastically volunteers to take to the branches.

A bush hugs the base of a tree, its branches curving like a bell, its leaves bushing the ground. Beneath it, a small, hallow space rests and the branches up above are thick enough that Vanitas can set up a small tree space and belt himself to one of the branches. Even though Roxas is the better climber, with their teamwork, Vanitas doesn't have to worry about long range shots. Roxas crawls inside, strings an arrow, and Vanitas climbs up ten feet and settles on a thick branch that intersects with the vines of a weeping willow.

The sun is drowning beneath the weight of a purple twilight when they spot movement. Roxas tenses, hardly able to breathe. Their patience is rewarded as a creature about the size of a small sheep wanders close, nose to the ground, snuffling. Roxas can tell Vanitas won't fire or bother to move since it is closer to Roxas' spot. Roxas draws a slow, deep breath, rehearses each step in his mind, then whips the bow up, closes one eye to sight down the center and releases the arrow.

It flies true, striking the side of the animal, and Roxas leaps from cover as his quarry jerks around and starts to run with faltering steps. Crossing the distance between them in seconds, Roxas yanks his dagger free, leaps on the animal's back, and swings his arm beneath its neck to slice open its throat.

It dies instantly, and Roxas wipes his blade clean on the ground beside it. Retrieving his arrow, Roxas cleans that as well and packs his weapon away. Flipping the animal over, he sees he's caught a boar. A young one, by the size of its tusks.

Roxas can lift it easily, but with his borrowed clothes he can't afford, nor does he want to get blood on his clothes. He solves the problem by grabbing its hind legs and dragging it to a nearby tree. He doesn't want to drag it back to their hiding spot because the trial of blood could lead a wild animal straight to them, or the smell could ward off deer and other small animals.

He pulls out a rope, accompanied by thick vines of a willow tree and hauls the boar up the trunk. He ties both its hind legs together and climbs up five feet before looping it around a thick branch and hauling it off the ground. Once he ties it down, Roxas climbs down and starts to slash the blade of his dagger across the trunk to mimic claw marks of predator. Once he's satisfied, Roxas carefully treks back to his hiding spot, following the glint of light that Vanitas is flashing from the direction of sunlight. Once Roxas makes it back, the flashing stops and Roxas burrows back into his spot.

Night has nearly reclaimed the sky before Roxas emerges from his spot. "We're not finding anyone. Let's try and move down by some water."

"Okay." Vanitas agrees.

Roxas leads him back and they retrieve the boar, carrying it down to a riverbed where they restring it twenty feet away from the actual river. This time they sit up in a tree together, coincidentally managing to find a treehouse big enough to house both of them as well as it having a small window that peeks out towards the river. Whether this is used for hunting or simply a playhouse for children, none of the boys care. They climb and nestle and wait once more. Meanwhile, Roxas tells Vanitas about Ventus' betrayal of friendship, the kiss between him and Axel, and showing him his new tattoo. Vanitas traces his fingers along the fire's flames and smiles at Roxas. After another five minutes of quiet, Roxas speaks up.

"Do one of your calls." Roxas smiles. One of his favorite things about hunting with Vanitas is that he's a master at calls. Form deer to loons to ducks.

Vanitas laughs. "Which one?"

"Uh . . . try a deer, first."

Vanitas laughs and approaches the window and cups his hands. He puckers his lips, lifts the pinky of one hand and the pointer finger of the other. He wets his lips and presses them to the hole he made with his hands. Blowing into his hands, the sound that comes out mimics a throaty version of a sheep's bah. Roxas laughs and Vanitas laugh along throwing off his call.

"I still can't believe that gets to you." he says.

"I can't help it, it sounds like someone passing gas." Roxas laughs.

The call manages to attract a female, but since no one is permitted to shoot them, Roxas scares it off and they wait until a buck wanders down. Vanitas tries a duck call and after fifteen minutes a small flock wandered down to the stream, standing in the shallow ends of the water where the current isn't so strong. Both of them take down three each before the flock goes off.

Dark clouds cover the sky, and a chilly breeze is blowing, carrying hints of the storm to come. Roxas calculates no more than ten minutes before a fierce round of early summer rain hits, reducing visibility to nothing.

"Okay, well seeing as how we're crunched for time, why don't we try to looks for some pheasants?" Vanitas suggests.

"Yeah."

The forest trails twist away from the river and end abruptly at the edge of an expanse of waist-high grass about fifty yards wide. Beyond the field of grass a meadow looms. Wildflowers sprinkle across it, sometimes gathering in patches by trees in shades of pink, purple, blue and white. Trees make an almost invisible patch of root roads that stretch over to their neighbor and intertwine at the edge of the meadow.

The boys reach the edge of the field just as the first drop of rain slams into the ground, the moon sheltering behind the clouds. Roxas pulls up the hood of a light windbreaker he wears under his leather jacket and steps into the steady downpour, bow in hand. While Roxas carefully stalks down the middle, Vanitas prowls on the outskirts, keeping a steady eye on Roxas. It's difficult since beneath the curtain of rain, aided by the darkness, he's nothing but a shadow.

When Vanitas sees him crouch down, Vanitas lowers his bow and puts his fingers between his teeth, unleashing a shrill high whistle. A large mass of dots emerge from the field, looking like a flock of birds, particularly pheasants. They swarm and spiral towards Roxas. The driving sheets of rain make it hard to be certain, but Vanitas is pretty sure Roxas manages to take one down right as they exploded out from the grass.

Roxas steadies his breathing and lets the rain pound his face, falling in opaque sheets. He'll be lucky if he can see two feet in front of him. He narrows his eyes and after a deep breath immediately looses himself in the shooting. He flies arrow after arrow for at least thirty seconds, and is pleased with hitting nine in one round before the flock is out of range. Roxas uses the neon fletchers to locate the birds and after removing the arrows unceremoniously stuffs them into the burlap sack.

Vanitas whistles and Roxas jerks his head and immediately starts to run in his direction. Vanitas takes four steps out and reaches out, feeling Roxas grasp it within thirty seconds. He tugs him beneath the canopy of trees and the boys start to run hard, weapons slapping their thighs and sheaths of arrows pecking at their backs. Underbrush claws at them while rabbits and squirrels spill out of the trees.

They begin to slow when the village lights poke through the curtain of rain. Vanitas keeps his hand locked with Roxas, and shrugs the boar to fit more comfortably on his shoulders. As they near the borderline of the village, the rain seems to let up, but mud puddles gouge the road, signaling that the shower has already passed over the village. So it's moving north.

Once they enter the city, Roxas pulls down his hood, but his hair is still moistened from the rain. He releases Vanitas' hand to try and adjust his hair, but it sticks to his head in a sleek style.

"Well, that went better than expected." Vanitas laughs.

"Quite." Roxas replies.

As the boys start to walks along the sidewalk, deciding to head towards the butcher's shop, Vanitas glances at Roxas, ignoring the glances of villagers as he carries the dead boar on his back.

Roxas' hair is drenched. Glistening ropes of water slide effortlessly down his pale skin. Vanitas raises his hand slowly, but Roxas doesn't flinch as Vanitas traces the knuckles of his fingers against Roxas' cheek, letting the water slide over them both. Vanitas' fingertips are callus and blood-stained, rough against the softness of Roxas' skin. The bite mark on his neck has healed and is starting to turn a pale shade of pink. He looks so fragile and fierce, and Vanitas longs for something more than animosity between them. After they deliver and trade the boar for coin, Roxas and Vanitas walk the sidewalks towards the docks. Vanitas stopped into the baker's shop and bought some garlic bread with some lemon butter and together they east their slices and walk.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Roxas asks. With his hands in his pockets, he looks to Vanitas with relaxed eyes.

"I don't think so. I'm not so cut out for the sea." Vanitas denies. "Sea sickness."

Roxas shrugs and sighs. They walk along the path and Roxas constantly flips his head downward to fix his hair. "I hope I don't catch a cold with this." He says.

Vanitas laughs and ruffles Roxas' hair as well. With the rabbits still in his burlap sack still strapped to his back as well as a few meaty parts of the deer and its antlers, Roxas leans forward, hunched by the weight.

"So, how're things with you and the Captain?" Vanitas asks. "Have you sorted anything out?"

"I don't know. I still haven't talked to him about selling him out to my father, and I feel terrible about it." Roxas admits. "And I know even he expected it to come, I feel like a part of him doesn't believe it."

"I'm sure things will work out."

Roxas pauses their walking and turns to Vanitas. "I'm going to miss having you on the ship." Roxas admits. Vanitas looks to him with risen eyebrows. "It was nice to finally have someone I know on the ship."

"Aw, I'm flattered." Vanitas grins and pets Roxas' head. And this time instead of smacking it away, Roxas allows it and even giggles from it, which Vanitas knows he has done almost never in his life.

As Vanitas' hand drifts to Roxas' cheek, his thumb traces a path across Roxas' cheekbone, catching another drip of water. Roxas' skin is warm beneath his hand, feeling almost like something tentative and soft.

Vanitas' gaze wanders to Roxas' lips, and he can't see anything but a thin trail of water gliding over Roxas' skin, gathering at the corner of his mouth and then slowly drifting towards his neck. Vanitas raises his other hand and presses his fingers against Roxas' lips. Roxas breath catches, a tiny sound that makes Vanitas realize how close he's standing to him.

Warmth rushes through Vanitas, and dips his face towards Roxas.

"Vanitas?" Roxas' voice is soft. Vanitas opens his eyes, intending on looking at Roxas but something catches his eye and they flick over behind Roxas' ear.

Then an arrow bolts towards them.

"Get down!" Vanitas screams, forcing Roxas to drop his bag and hitting the floor.

The arrow hits the side of the wall, and Roxas has just dropped to one knee when another hits into the window of the shop off to Roxas' right shoulder. Vanitas' arm wraps around Roxas' shoulder and shoves him toward the wall. The flames of the fire lamp pops and bursts, erupting in an explosion that knocks his body into Roxas', pining him to the wall. Roxas' ears ring and his right shoulder burns, and he sees Vanitas crouched around him to shield Roxas from the arrowfire. The pain subsides to a dull ache. Roxas ducks low, his boots crunching pieces of glass and rocks beneath their soles, and pulls his sword out of its sheath on his belt.

All around them the fire has dissipated from the explosion, like it had leeched out all of its light. People out for the night scream once more and they rush to find indoors out of the street. Now they are crouching in darkness with only moonlight. They wait for another arrow to whiz at their heads, but it stays quiet.

Vanitas rises and draws a dagger. "Show yourselves!" he demands.

Roxas slides his hand under his shirt and feels for the wound in his shoulder. He's not bleeding, but the forces of the combustion knocked him down so he must've been hit with something. He runs his fingers over his shoulder, and feels a hard bump here the skin used to by smooth.

Then voices whisper into the room.

Roxas jumps like a startled rabbit. He stands next to Vanitas and spins the blade of his dagger out. Roxas then leans close to Vanitas. Roxas' voice catches in his throat, for there s no one on the street. Again they hear the voice, echoing from building to building, alley to alley like a magician's trick. This time Roxas clearly realized that a woman is doing the whispering, a fact that should have calmed him but strangely does not.

"We are the Faceless children," says the whisper. "We are the most fervent, the most skilled, for we have much to atone for. Are you a sinner, boy? Will you lift your arms to us and accept our mercy?"

Shadows dance around Roxas and Vanitas in the street, not cast from the moonlight flickering on the cobblestone. Vanitas and Roxas turn back to back, rotating in circles, taking tiny steps back into its light, hoping it can somehow drive them away like sunlight drives away vampires.

"Show yourselves!" Vanitas repeats. Roxas feels his heart beat fast, blood roaring in his ears as the voice bounces around the inside of his skull.

_The Faceless_. _They're here_.

Inexplicably, Roxas begins to shake as chills form goose bumps on his limbs, and his damp clothes feel like ice even in the humid wind. When Roxas peers towards the north road, he sees the shadows swarm together, grow in volume and mass, and then finally fill with color, becoming a woman shrouded in black with a thin white cloth covering the gap left for her eyes.

"Can't take the cold? There's warmth in the Void," the woman says as she draws a serrated dagger. "Would you like me to send you there, boys?"

"Don't try and makes threats!" Roxas snaps, knowing that somehow they're talking to him. "You don't know what I'm capable of. If you have other members, make them show their faces! Stop hiding behind the cover of a wrapping."

"Careful of what you ask, little boy. Be clear with your demands, or accept the cruel gifts fools and selfish men may give."

Roxas easily gives a snarl. But it takes all his willpower to suppress the shaking of his hands and keep them gripped in fists.

Vanitas hisses. "Why did you attack us?!"

"Don't ask questions you should already know the answer to. Remain quiet. We are few, and some things must be done in silence." the woman says.

She wraps her cloak around her body, its fabric seemingly made of liquid shadow. A sudden jerk and she is gone, her body exploding into dark fragments that splash across the walls and fade like smoke.

"We know who you are, Roxas." Her voice hisses. "Your reputation has long been clenched in the iron fist of your father. But it's time a new and _better_ generation of assassins devour the fear of the citizens, and show them the true fear and power true warriors of the shadows deserve." Echoes a whisper through the room. "Remember, the cost you pay is always dearer once it has left your hand."

Just as the last word hisses, Vaintas is knocked to the side from a brutal kick to the head; nearly crashing into the wall of a shop ten paces down. Roxas is about to look to him, but keeps his gaze forward enough to spot a pale wrapped face barreling towards him. Roxas blocks the faceless woman's serrated dagger, but the woman then spins knocking the sword aside with her one leg, and ramming the other into Roxas' gut with the other. Roxas grunts and feels the woman's right fist slam into his cheek, then his left before she grabs Roxas' hair and ears, bringing his head down and ramming it to her knee. Roxas stumbles back and feels a stream of liquid run down his lip. Bloody nose.

Vanitas pushes to his feet and readies his weapon. He charges for the girl and as he swipes, he expects it to land in the faceless' back, but it only hits the ground. He looks to the left and is met with a vicious punch to his jaw, then kick to the stomach before his feet are out from under him. Roxas goes to slash the faceless woman's arm, but instead feels her wrist grabbed and a hand readies to slam his temple into the display window of a jewelry store. But Roxas braces his window against the panes and pushes against the woman's hand. with a burst of strength, he pushes off, slapping aside the Faceless woman's arm and grabbing her by the clasp of his cloak. He hauls her forward, grabbing the back of her head and smashing it through the glass, and stabbing her neck onto one of the jagged edges of the shards. It breaks off and she gasps and gags on her blood, her body shuddering as she collapses onto the sidewalk.

Another Faceless woman then pulls Roxas back, spins and kicks Roxas back. Roxas only manages to roll backwards to his knees.

The shadows coalesce before Roxas into a shrouded figure. Every inch of the skin is wrapped in purple and black cloth. From the shoulders hangs a pale gray cloak.

"A challenge, huh? Well, this gig just got interesting." the faceless woman says. She then back flips all the way down the street and then disappears into a black mist.

Roxas snarls and follows despite Vanitas' words of warning. Roxas stands in the middle of the street, drizzling rain swirling around him like a vortex. He listens carefully; ignoring the howl of the wind in his ears. Roxas spins around, bringing his elbow up as he does, and thrusts it towards the woman's face. It catches the end of her chin, but not enough to stop her. She grabs Roxas' left hand with one hand and presses the tip of her dagger to Roxas' forehead with the other. A second later she drives the hilt of the dagger into Roxas' jaw. Roxas clenches his teeth to suppress a groan. Blood trickles down his neck – she broke the skin. The blood slides off the faceless woman's robes like water.

The woman back handsprings, leaps into the air, raising a sword. Roxas blocks it with his own weapon and slashes it aside, kicking the woman in the shoulder; but as the woman hitches a cry and drops to one knee, she uses her other leg to kick Roxas' feet out. Roxas' back slams into the ground.

The woman goes for the killing blow, but Roxas raises his legs up, catching the woman's wrists and flinging her over. Rolling with her momentum, Roxas rolls back and to his feet, spinning out his dagger and gripping his sword. Vanitas runs out and joins Roxas.

"She's fast." Roxas growls.

"Then let's be faster." Vanitas growls.

Suddenly the woman bursts from the flurry grabbing Vaintas' wrists, twirling and bringing her leg up to her neck. She hurls him down trapping his neck between her knee, cutting off his breathing. Within seconds he's unconscious.

"Not fast enough." The woman provokes.

"Vanitas!" Roxas shouts.

Roxas sheathes his sword and goes to his belt of daggers. The faceless woman flips off of Vanitas and lands on one knee a few feet from Roxas. He could not see the woman's eyes through the white cloth, but he has a feeling that behind it and the wrappings hide an amused smile. She suddenly leaps high flipping back drawing another dagger that matched the other.

Roxas doesn't waste time throwing his daggers at the woman. But she dodges every single one, coming closer and closer. Roxas leaps back and to the left as the blade of the woman's weapon comes close to his cheek.

The woman grabs Roxas elbow, yanking him back, and pushes her thumb into the finished-healing wound in Roxas shoulder, twisting until the pain makes Roxas' vision go black at the edges, and he screams at the top of his lungs.

"I _thought_ I recalled you getting hit in that shoulder," she says, "It seems I was right."

Roxas' knees cripple beneath him, and the woman grabs Roxas' collar almost carelessly, dragging him back towards the middle of the street in front of the jewelry shop. The fabric digs into Roxas' throat, choking him, and he stumbles after the woman. His body throbs with lingering pain.

He feels himself dropped to the ground and the woman steps over him. Roxas can't push himself up with the throbbing in his arm working its way to his head. Instead, he watches as the woman turns to face him.

"I'd really hate to be whichever one of you has to explain to your superior how you got obliterated by a faceless single-handedly." She giggles.

"Why . . .?" Roxas croaks. He grits his teeth and pushes up on one arm. "Why do this?"

"Because your guild has ruled this city long enough. All you do is wallow in your little house only taking a small handful of the thousands of contracts you have. Only accepting very little coin that what you could have." the woman spites. "Your father is a poor excuse of a leader. You don't even deserve to call yourselves assassins."

"I'd like to see you repeat that facing against all of us." Roxas challenges.

"I would. If I could take out the two of you, I can take on your organization. If you're the representation of what they offer . . . I am _deeply_ disappointed." The faceless woman spins her dagger between her fingers as she approaches Roxas. Roxas tries to swallow but it feels like he has a wad of cotton balls in his throat. "Though, I won't lie; you seem to have some potential. Fighting you was most . . . amusing."

"I'm not here for giggles." Roxas scowls.

"Understandable. And lucky for you my orders are clear."

"Why don't you just kill me now?" Roxas asks.

The faceless woman's fingers brush against Roxas' forehead and Roxas shudders. He should strike, but he needs to see how much he can leach from this member. The idea of trying to ally with them is now completely obliterated and now all he wants to do it slay them all.

"Because my orders were to intimidate." She answers.

Roxas shifts his hand back, centimeter by centimeter, so she doesn't notice. His hand reaches the corner of his belt. He keeps it steady, his fingers shaking with anticipation. He has to wait for the right moment.

"And judging from the look on your face, you've had enough. Though not for entertainment values."

Roxas snarls and finally lurches forward, pulling his hand out from behind his back. Roxas thrusts the blade upward towards the woman. He watches the knife go in and pulls it out, twisting in the process. The back of his neck is sticky with sweat. The woman gags and slumps to the ground.

Then there's a sudden burst of pain that crackles along Roxas' skull. He hits the ground, the grit stone scraping against his cheek. Roxas thinks he screams, but he can't tell as his senses have become muted. The world gets fuzzy, his hearing muffled. A third faceless woman approaches him and Roxas can feel her grip his chin.

"You're organization is dead." She seethes.

Roxas could swear he sees green eyes studying him through the white mask.

Jerking his chin, Roxas opens his mouth and bites down on the woman's finger, trying desperately to break through the bone. He once read somewhere that if you can bite through a whole carrot, you can bite off someone's fingers, but it's your senses that stop you from doing it to yourself. Roxas' chin is released and his head is on the ground again with a harsh kick to the head. His nose is now gushing blood. The faceless woman steps over him. and Roxas listens as he hears the footsteps disappear.

His vision is too blurry with tears and his hands too useless to grip his dagger. Roxas screams into gritted teeth, frustrated. He can't help. He is worthless.

Roxas feels strong hands gently grab his biceps and slowly pulls him upright. He blinks away tears, his ears ringing. Vanitas holds Roxas carefully, his face studying Roxas' with concern.

"Vanitas," Roxas croaks. Then he whirls away, and winds up convulsing. The world takes an alarming turn and his head is suddenly light. He feels Vanitas stroke his head and hold his shoulders. Roxas retches more as he sees the blood of his nose mix in with the yellow and brown mesh of his bread slices. Once he's lost all means of his meager dinner, Roxas struggles to his feet, gathering a mouthful of spit in his mouth and spitting it aside. His feel wobble and the world still hasn't stopped spinning. Vanitas takes Roxas' arm and wraps it around his shoulder and hauls Roxas to his feet. Despite his nausea, with his stomach empty, he staggers; leaning heavily on Vanitas.

"I've got you, Roxas." Vanitas says. "I'll get you back."

Roxas trips on his own feet, the world so wobbly. Vanitas catches him and lifts Roxas up in his arms.

"I've got you." Vanitas whispers.

His words are muffled, and Roxas can't even think of trying to form what it was he is saying.

All he can do is form a single thought before he submerges into blackness: _The Faceless must die._


	27. Chapter 26

The sound of rain drumming on his window gently pulls Roxas to consciousness. He fights to return to sleep though, wrapped in a warm cocoon of blankets, safe at home. Roxas is vaguely aware that his head aches. Possibly he has the flu and this is why he's allowed to stay in bed, even though Roxas knows he's been asleep for a long time. Lexaeus adjusts pillows at his head and Saix adds a pillow at his feet. His father's hand strokes his cheek and Roxas snuggles into it, inhaling his father's sharp scent, unafraid of having his father knowing how much he craves that gently touch. How much he misses him despite his cruel nature and intense training methods. His father smiles and Roxas goes to grasp his hand, but is dissipates like mist in his fingers. His father doesn't seem to notice as he still smiles and Roxas can still feel the stroke of his father's knuckles against his cheek.

Then there's a voice, the wrong voice, not his father's, and he is scared.

"Roxas." It says. "Please Roxas, wake up."

Roxas moans as he watches his father and his bedroom start to fade and swirl like ink in water. They swirl together and their colors are dizzying until they're sucked back into blackness and Roxas sense start to grow.

He begins to feel something soft beneath his back and feet and hands. He twitches his fingers, the black pool of his dreams staring to ripple.

"Roxas." It whispers.

Moaning in pain, Roxas moves his head slowly. His body feels stiff and the pain in his head begins to throb. He cringes as he tries to move and tries to bend his knees as it feels like lead. He reaches the final level of consciousness where his eyes are the only thin veil available between him and his dreamworld. Once he opens his eyes, everything is real, and he'll have to deal with real world problem. His real world father.

Roxas' eyes open and the sense of security vanishes. He's not home, not with his father. He's in the dimly lit cabin of Captain Axel, his bare feet freezing despite the cover, the air tainted with the unmistakable smell of medical supplies and blood. For a moment, Roxas stare sup at the ceiling, waiting for all his fibers and awareness to activate so that he can take full assessment of his injuries.

His head throbs, but he still can't seem to remember how he'd gotten hurt in the first place. It's there, he can feel it in his head, but for some reason he can't seem to put an image to what happened. All it does is increase the throbbing of his headache. When his nostrils flare, it feels dry inside, and his shoulder seems to be fine, despite a minor ache. Roxas flicks his eyes around to ensure he's not so dizzy like from last night, but the ultimate test will be sitting up.

Roxas readies to turn to his side, and the green eyes of a spikey red-haired man slides into view, and after an initial jolt of alarm, Roxas feels better. "Axel."

"Hey." he says. "Good to see you back with the living."

"How long have I been out?" Roxas asks.

"About a day. Vanitas brought you back to the ship, dribbling blood from your nose and a gash just above your temple. Vexen complained on how we'll wind up using all of his medical equipment for all the injuries you're bringing yourself and the men." Axel says, his last few words supposed to be a joke, but it only fills Roxas with pity. He can't seem to fight the feeling of lightness through his body. It's unusual.

Roxas frowns. "I'm sorry."

Axel looks to him with a disturbed look on his face, then a small smile creeps across one corner of his mouth. "Don't worry about it. But maybe you should stay in bed."

"What?"

"Vexen injected you with a painkiller and a little bit of a . . . "calming serum". As he calls it. But I think it might've made you a little loopy." Axel chuckles.

"I feel fine." Roxas ensures.

"I believe you, but still. And just so you know, Ventus never left your side." Axel adds.

Roxas looks to him in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"Ventus. He took care of you." Axel repeats. "He didn't do it just so you'd forgive him, but out of legit worry. He helped Vexen heal your wounds and clean your blood."

"Why?" Roxas asks, his anger bubbling beneath a thick layer of calm and drowsiness.

"Because he was worried." Axel says.

"He doesn't care about me." Roxas coldly says.

Axel gives him a look and raises one eyebrow. "Roxas. He does."

"No he doesn't." Roxas argues like a young child.

"I do, Roxas." Roxas jerks his head over and Axel follows as Ventus approaches with a small pile of freshly folded clothes in one hand, and Roxas' boots in the other.

Roxas stares at him for a moment before his expression turns cold. Ventus shifts uncomfortably, swaying from side to side before he wanders over to the table and sets them down. Roxas still stares, watching him like a predator even when Ventus keeps his head lowered.

"Okay. Okay." Axel chuckles. He wanders over to the bed and slowly strokes Roxas' air. The motion calming him almost immediately. He sits on the edge of the bed and kisses Roxas' forehead. "Look, you're still tired. Why don't you just sleep? You and Vanitas had a long night."

Suddenly a bolt of fear hits Roxas. He shoots upward, causing the room to spin, but stares at Axel with blurry vision. "Wait! Where's Vanitas?!"

Axel takes Roxas' shoulders and shushes him. Out of Roxas' peripherals, he can see Axel's hand has fully healed from the dagger impalement he chucked the first day on the ship. "It's alright, Roxas. He's fine. But . . ."

Roxas feels a lump in his throat. "But what?!"

"He left, Roxas. After he dropped you off, he said he needed to go, but told us to give you his regards."

"What?! No!" Roxas shouts and before Axle realizes, he's bolt out of bed and is headed for the door.

"Roxas, wait!"

Roxas yanks open the door and rushes outside, the cold chill or morning air searing his face. He runs towards the edge of the first level and grips the wooden banister with clawed fingers. The chill of the morning air sends goose bumps across his skin, making Roxas aware that he has not shirt on. The world tilts and sways and Roxas takes deep inhales as he suddenly feels the ship jerks. Roxas looks out and sees nothing but a deep blue sea, foaming waves brisk past them and the sails ballooned up full from the wind.

"Oh no." he whispers. He looks all around, taking notice of Demyx watching him as he loops a rope through the deadeyes. "No, no, no, no!" Roxas stumbles over to the very side of the ship and peers over the edge and finds the ship sailing across the water. Without reason, Roxas begins to breathe heavily as he leans back and presses his back to the outer wall of the cabin. He clutches his chest as Axel and Ventus hurry up and shelter him from the eyes of the crew.

"Roxas, hey, Roxas." Axel tries to calm as he crouches in front of Roxas as he slides down the wall to the floor. He once again takes Roxas' head in his hands and makes him look at Axel. "Roxas, it's okay. He's fine. Vanitas is fine. And you're fine."

Axel sees tears forming in Roxas' eyes. Roxas grips Axel's wrists and his lips start to quiver. He still takes heavy breathes and when he tries to say something, he simply bursts into tears. Axel wraps his arms around the boy and lifts him in his arms, carrying him back to the cabin. Ventus follows shutting the door behind him.

Carrying Roxas to the bed, Axel settles the boy in his lap, making quiet soothing sounds, until he is mostly cried out. Vanitas goes out and fetches Roxas a tray consisting of a small plate of a cored apple, a glass of water with lemon and bowl of oatmeal. Roxas doesn't even notice it's there, and Axel notions Ventus to go over to the closet. Ventus brings over one of Axel's white shirts, of which Axel drapes around Roxas' bare and shaking shoulders and pulls the boy down to lay next to him; Roxas head on Axel's arm like a pillow. The other rests protectively over Roxas. With his head in Axel's chest, the boy curls in, sniffling and nuzzling his cheek in the crook of Axel's chest. Axel doesn't say anything, but his hand brushes the tips of Roxas' bangs off his forehead. This gesture is so natural and comforting. Roxas doesn't want him to stop, and Axel doesn't. Roxas can't remember the last time someone's held him like this. His father is too strict and domineering, and any memories of his mother are something of a figure with a blank face. No one's arms have ever made him feel safe.

He's still stroking Roxas' hair when he falls asleep.

The medication Vexen recommended for Roxas are little white oval-shaped pills that are supposed to help him sleep, but they don't work. Not well enough. Roxas manages to drift off, only to be roused by nightmares that have been retrieved from his old repertoire of terrors created by the mermaid's venom. They have increased in detail and intensity. Waves after wave of horrifying images conjured up by what Roxas has witnessed over the years along with the hallucinations of the venom mix togethe and swallow Roxas in fear. Roxas struggles to break out of the haze of drugs that merely prolong the horrible dreams, resulting in bloodcurdling screams and violent thrashing that turns the whole crew on their heads thinking he's being mutilated.

All the while, Axel is there; in brief respites Roxas confuses with waking, he manages to wake Roxas and calm him down, before another wave knocks Roxas back unconscious. This process continues for five hours, until it is late afternoon.

Roxas wakes and finds his body heated, his forehead and neck moistened with sweat. There's a glass of water on the end table, of which he gulps it down thirstily. Looking out the slanted windows, he sees the sun just starting to pass over the ship. His injuries have ceased their pains and throbs and Roxas manages to walk steadily to the wardrobe where he observes the bandages wrapped around his shoulder; the tips of his flame tattoo poking out. Snarling, Roxas takes a pair of scissors and cuts them away, half snipping and half ripping them off. Turning his back he sees an impressive black and brown bruise on his shoulder blade. The gash on his temple is already starting to scab over, resulting in it being a maroon red and crispy when Roxas tries to scrape it with his nail. Glancing around the cabin, he locates the trunks and digs around, finding his guild uniform clean and folded. Back on Axel's table is still the folded clothes Ventus left in the morning.

He decides to pull on his guild's uniform, discarding the armor though, knowing he's not fit to carry the weight just yet. Wrapping his cloak around his shoulders, he clasps it in place and straps on his weapons.

When Axel walks up to the cabin, he doesn't bother knocking assuming that Roxas was still sleeping. He walks in surprised but relieved to see the boy sitting on the bed, glaring vacantly at the floor; the metal tray of medicine and equipment toppled over and scattered across the wood. Axel can't help but laugh softly as he steps over the threshold.

"Thank the gods." He says, and Roxas looks up, still glaring. "I was beginning to think it would never wear off."

"I'll kill him." Roxas says. "I'm _going_ to kill him."

"Now listen, I know you're upset with Vanitas but -"

"Not him! That bastard of a doctor!" Roxas hollers. "What kind of ass of a man would create these stupid pills anyway?! They don't help!" Without thought or reason, Roxas takes the small canister of pills and hurls it against the wall, shattering it upon impact and sends the pills rolling around and rattling against the floorboards.

"They might not help you, but they're beneficial to some people." Axel calmly speaks.

Roxas scoffs and whips his hand through the empty air for no reason. He turns away, facing the bed and stiffens when he hears Axel chuckle.

"Hey." He says. Roxas can feel Axel start to wrap his arms around him and Roxas retaliates.

"No." he groans. Still Axel continues to coil his arms around Roxas, and though Roxas doesn't returns to gesture he does lean his head into Axel's chest, immediately picking up the rhythm of his – now becoming familiar - heartbeat. The sound makes Roxas calm down.

Axel begins to lower himself down bringing Roxas with him and Roxas follows. They sit on the bed and Axel kisses a spot just below Roxas' temple. "Relax." He coos.

This would've bothered Roxas if coming from anyone else; the word having a form of demand to it, inhibiting Roxas to feel a certain way. Yet with Axel, it's more of like an actual calming gesture, signifying he's allowed to feel that way, but just not so loud. Roxas sighs and lets his head rest against Axel's lips. Roxas now starts to feel embarrassed about the way he's handled defeat at the hands of the Faceless. His drug induced dreams, his pathetic emotional breakdown and now a fit of maniacal rage. Axel is surely granted with the patience of a saint to deal with Roxas' fits and not to lose control of his emotions once. Roxas though he had control, yet Axel is a master without even realizing it.

Secretly, Roxas decides to try and act his strongest in an attempt to counteract his emotional embarrassment. Roxas leans slightly away, enticing Axel to release him and he does.

"Thank you." Roxas says, since he doesn't know what else to say.

"Of course." Axel pets the blonde's hair and smiles. "Oh, by the way before I forget, Vanitas wanted me to give you his regards."

Roxas' lip effortlessly contorts into an immediate snarl. "Who cares."

"Hey, hey." Axel looks to Roxas. "Don't be mad, you have no reason."

He does have a point, Vanitas isn't one to lie and his departure was discussed, but Roxas didn't expect it to be when he was injured after a fallout with the so called: Faceless Assassins. Of course Vanitas did have a rather, expert knowledge of the group, and his departure after the attack is highly coincidental and suspicious. Roxas was most dependant on him, and after practically dumping him off to Axel and the crew, there's small bits of doubt dwelling beneath the surface. So Roxas lets his anger at Vanitas fester.

"Now look, you don't have to be angry. . ."

"Why?" Roxas' voice dead.

"Because he left you . . . a letter, filled with explanations and reasoning." Axel says and he pulls out a small envelope from his pocket and hands it to Roxas. Roxas takes it slowly, and sets it between his hands, staring downward at it.

"Thank you." Roxas forces himself to say.

"You can read it now if you'd like. I was just about to head down to the pub to get you some food, but seeing as how you're up. You must be hungry."

"I'm not." Roxas says flatly. "But I could use some tea or broth."

"No problem." Axel assures. He gets up and stretches his arms before sighing. "You coming?"

"In a minute." Roxas answers.

Axel shrugs and lets the boy be as he exits the cabin. Once he shuts the door behind him, Roxas sighs and stares at the white envelope with a gold stamp at the intersection. He peels back the sticker and pulls out the folded piece of paper.

_Roxas, please accept my apologies for leaving you after such a drastic attack, but I didn't have a choice. _

_I decided that it would be best if we split up in case the Faceless decided to target one of us. I'd rather admit this to you in person, but this is all I could manage; I've been in contact with the Faceless before, not in the way you're probably thinking, but it was pure accidental. _

_They send their agents out to random citizens to test them, and acquire new members. _

_But what stumped me is that they always target women, as a form of support to their cause, I don't know. I had to stay behind to due further research to benefit you in case they are after that bounty of yours. I'm sorry for leaving you, but I promise I will try and get to you before you reach Twilight Town, if not I will meet you there. _

_In the mean time, hopefully you can manage without me, and do try to stay out of trouble. _

_-Vanitas_

Roxas' eyes flick back and forth across the paper, repeatedly reading the letter over and over. Slowly, his anger diminishes to hardened curiosity and awareness. If the Faceless are after him and his bounty, it only gives Roxas a reason to try and get back home sooner. Perhaps they're another ploy of his father to get Roxas to return. And if Vanitas is on a time crunch to try and get information out to Roxas, that must mean that they're sailing into the territory waters of Twilight Town, soon. The thought makes Roxas feel sick to his stomach.

With so much that's been happening, he's still barely given thought as to what he's going to do. He still hasn't told Axel about selling him out to his father back in the Destiny Isles. When was that? Two, two and a half weeks ago? Roxas needs to think of a plan, and fast. But with them already sailing off away from Hollow Bastion, his spots for solitude are limited. The crow's nest is in use nearly all day and into the night, and Roxas is to return to his own bed down with crew and give Axel's back. Roxas refuses to sleep in Ventus' chambers, so perhaps all he can do is block them out as he tries to brainstorm.

Roxas gets up and tucks the letter and envelope away in his back pocket as he leaves the cabin. Walking out onto the deck, the breeze of the sea wafts across Roxas' face, chilling his skin and cooling off his heated shoulder. Will it ever heal? Roxas starts to head down to the pub area when he pauses at the top of the stairs, the feeling of embarrassment creeping back up his spine. Given the circumstances, Roxas guesses he deserves one day of indulgence.

Downstairs in the pub, Roxas takes a breath before pushing through the door. Upon entering, Demyx immediately embraces him, but he's not overly emotional. Roxas knows he's holding things in to make it easier for Roxas. He can't say he isn't grateful.

Without word, he trots over to the bar area and ladles out a mug of broth for Roxas, he makes a second one for Axel of whom is already sitting down next to Ventus. Roxas tries to submerge the twinge cramping in his stomach as he approaches the table. Roxas sits down on the other side of Axel. Once he sits down, Roxas nearly instantly feels Axel's hand rub his thigh. Roxas forces himself to relax as Demy hands him the mug. Roxas accepts it with a smile.

For a moment, after Demyx sits down, they all sit there almost peacefully, sipping their drinks and listening to the soft, crackling music as it plays through a gramophone.

The device has a hand crank, which turns itself around and around as though propelled by the hand of a ghost as music pours fourth from its enormous funnel-shaped horn. Its needle skips across a black record, rotating on the turntable, as it spins at a lazy speed.

"So what did the note say?" Axel asks as he lowers his mud.

"Vanitas stayed behind in town to look up more on The Faceless." Roxas answers.

"The who?" Ventus pipes. Roxas shoots a look to him, as if looking down on him and saying he doesn't have the right to speak unless spoken to. Ventus shies away ever so slightly, and Roxas feeds off that tiny piece of fear, since it indicates to him he still has a grip on the boy. "I'm allowed to speak, aren't I?" Ventus nearly challenges.

Roxas shakes his head and rolls his eyes as if Ventus is nothing but merely an annoying child. "The Faceless, Vanitas told me all this back when I met up with him in the Destiny Isles." Roxas starts. "The Faceless are an aspiring group of assassins, whose reputation seems to be quickly spreading at a mass pace. At first I thought I could alley them with my father, but, after they attacked us yesterday, I'm starting to think they're on their own."

"How do you know your father didn't send them?" Demyx asks.

"Because of the attack." Roxas says sharply. "If they were sent by my father, they wouldn't have been a challenge or have attacked me at all."

As Roxas talks, Axel can't help but stare at the flame tattoo on Roxas' chest, placed over his heart. Roxas wears his guild's tunic and trousers, yet no armor. His cape encloses his body, obscuring his shape. Axel wishes he would've put back on the fitted low-cut tank top and jacket. Roxas takes a long sip of his mug, the warmth running down his throat and warming it and nearly clearing away his headache.

"How long until we reach Twilight Town?" Roxas asks when he puts down his drink.

He expects someone to make a joke about him wanting to get back home, but no one does, to his relief.

Demyx answers. "It estimated about another three days. Why?"

"Vanitas said he wanted to try and send me the information he gathers on the Faceless before we reach home." Roxas answers.

"Well, it's three days if we stop and drop anchor at night, but we can easily chop that amount in half if we just continue straight on."

"Let's take our time." Roxas answers. "I'm in no rush."

"That's surprising." Ventus speaks again. Again it earns him a cold stare from Roxas. "Seriously, it is. I thought you'd want to go back home more than ever with a new enemy against you."

"No one is my enemy because they are not a challenge." Roxas counters gravely. "But the Faceless, are disconcerting. Surely my father can send out his men to scour for information, but should we run into them again I need to know whatever I can get my hands on."

"I suppose." Ventus replies.

As Roxas listens to the conversations of the men of the table, he tries to think of ways he can spare Axel and his men from the cruel ironfisted hand of his father. It would seem that talking to him would be the only option. Charlie hasn't been around much and since he's the only mail of any kind between Roxas and his guild, until he returns, Roxas will have to settle for speaking to his father in person.

Once the crew returns to the deck, Axel calls to have them drop anchor for the time to catch fish. As Roxas goes over to the side, another figure approaches, and from his shadow Roxas knows who it is.

"So . . . you and Axel are together, huh?" Ventus asks.

"Is this one of those moments when you want me to lie to protect your delicate emotions?" Roxas says flatly.

"Just answer my question." Ventus demands.

"What's it to you?" Roxas asks.

"You know why. And don't play dumb."

"Who said I was?"

"It's obvious, Roxas!" Ventus says strident. "I've been paying attention."

"Well then you already know the answer." Roxas says with a mater-of-fact tone.

Ventus then seems about to start another fight, but clamps his lips tight, and relaxes. He sighs heavily and turns away, bringing up his hand to his face. It is unclear what t is exactly he's doing, but Roxas can take a wild guess.

It has been another few days since Roxas has taken a bath, let alone in clean water, but once the men lower the plank he decides to take full advantage. He strips down to his undergarments, ignoring the cat calls behind him and sprints towards the plank before swan diving off and plunging into the water.

The water snatches him, the surface briefly warm from the sun before he breezes past to the cold layer beneath. He hears another muffled plunge above him, but opening his eyes, he swims around, ruffling his hair and twirling himself around and wafting up and down to the shifts of the sea. Finally he breaches the surface and gasps, finding Demyx in the water with him. Demyx laughs as Zack gives a hollering scream before jumping off and curling into a ball. Once he surfaces, Demyx immediately splashes him with his arm and the fight is on.

Soon another two, three men join in and either swims around, splashes each other or simply drifts along the surface. When one slaps Roxas, the battle becomes a free for all. Being the first to submit, Roxas wafts off to the side while Demyx and Zack splash to the death. He peers up and sees Captain Axel smiling and laughing along with the men, Ventus sitting atop of crate with a smile; but it's a smile that's not genuine.

Going through the thought process in his head, he really doesn't want to forgive Ventus for what he's done, especially when it was such a high consideration of false hope. But when he realizes what he's done to Ventus, realizing he's practically forfeited the boy's life, along with the betrayal of Marluxia, a small piece of exoneration breaks through the icy silence of his heart and floats to the surface like the debris of a shipwreck. Roxas manages to sneak around the bow and climb up with the muffles of the cannons. He climbs on board, mindful of his dripping body and makes his way to Ventus. If any men spot him, they don't blow his cover. Roxas' heart beats in his chest as he hopes that Ventus doesn't turn around, and he doesn't. As Axel takes two steps to the right, Roxas pounces like a cat.

He wraps his arms around Ventus' torso, resulting in the boy shrieking and kicking his legs. Roxas can't help but laugh as he makes his way to the plank. The men cheer him on, but Ventus still cries out and thrashes. But when he hears Roxas laugh he stops and Roxas can hear a small smile plaguing his lips. Taking two powerful steps and pushing off the edge of the plank, the two dive-bomb into the sea; Roxas adjusting their formation so that they land feet first.

He immediately releases Ventus upon impact of the water and starts to swim to the surface. He and Ventus break at the same time and Ventus coughs, having swallowed some water. The men cheer and laugh as Ventus regains his breath and Roxas surfaces, but only so the water level is under his nose. Ventus nervously swims over, his tunic now sticking to his body and hair slicked to his head.

"Hey." he breathes. "Well that seemed out of nowhere. I thought you were trying to kill me."

Roxas doesn't answer, instead he furrows his eyebrows and tries to keep his expression seemingly friendly.

"So, did that little stunt meant that you forgave me? Because if so, then I really, _really_ would like to try it again with you. but not in that, kind of sense." Ventus nervously smiles.

Roxas remains quiet. And only stares at Ventus.

"Roxas please, I _really_ want to be friends with you . . . again. Please." Ventus genuinely pleads.

After a moment of silence, Roxas shoot up from the water, spewing a mouthful of seawater into Ventus' face. At first the boy is shocked and frankly disgusted, but it quickly turns into a smile and he splashes Roxas back. The boys laugh and swim away from one another diving and still splashing. The crewmen wallow in the sea water for another two hours before Axel calls them all back on deck.

He and Demyx hand out towels of which Roxas uses to dry his hair and torso. He wraps it around his waist in an attempt to dry his undergarments, but settles on hanging them out to dry and pulling his pants nonetheless; and just so he doesn't have to be alone – not that it would matter to him either way – Ventus hangs his out too.

Roxas ruffles his hair with the towel and watches as Zack and Luxord gather up an old blackened metal firepit and toss in old and dry objects of cloth and grass before setting it ablaze. The crewmen gather around and exchange drinks and conversation. The sun is now setting on the horizon and already the first three early night starts have appeared for their short solo show.

Watching the crew as he sits on a barrel drinking a lemonade drizzled with a berry flavoring, Roxas realizes the reason why the men seem happier despite their rough lives of being on the ocean.

They're free.

While they have simple morals, it's more of a spiritual thing. They're a family, a bond of people of whom would have each others' back in dire situation. Who would casually help another member out of the kindness of his heart towards that person, even share food and drinks. Roxas has never witnessed that in the guild, seeing as how no one can trust the other, but who only work together when his father calls an order.

They have achieved what was long forgotten to Roxas since he entered his teen years, and that's creating a family.

Roxas tries to think of how he can bring these ideas to his guild, but only shakes his head when one attempt after the other sounds repeatedly stupid.

So he merely settles down next to Ventus, of who shares his quilted blanket with him, draping it over Roxas shoulder and Roxas scooching closer to have more room to gather in his hands. When Ventus leans his head on Roxas' shoulder, Roxas lets the boy and even leans his head on Ventus'.

Wrapped in his quilted cocoon with his friend, Roxas lets the conversation and warmth of the fire melt away the chilling afterthought of what he's done and allows himself to be part of the family.


	28. Chapter 27

A strange ache beats with the rhythm of Roxas' heart.

He blinks his eyes open and looks out the circular window of the crew's sleeping quarters. It's one day closer until they reach Twilight Town and he will have to face his father. No matter how hard he tries to will the sun not to come up, it still prevails, bringing with it the dawn of a new day.

After the bonfire the crew hosted through half the night, Axel took Roxas and Ventus downstairs and led them both to bed. Roxas traces his hands over his lips with a featherlike touch as he remembers the quick kiss goodnight Axel face him once Ventus was tucked away in bed.

Roxas rolls over to one side and gazes at the sleeping men in their cots. Some of them snoring softly while others shift under their quilts. In two more days they will be back home, and the only plan of action Roxas has is to _talk_ to his father. Might as well rent a billboard with the ship's picture on it and "Assassinate Us" written in neon.

Sighing as he shifts to a sitting position, Roxas ruffles his hair. Lazily dragging himself out of bed, Roxas changes into his black long-sleeved tunic and grey trousers, and then sliding his feet into his black boots. Pulling up his sleeves, Roxas grabs his sword and daggers and tiptoes across the wood to the upper deck. He had promised Ventus a combat practice session today.

With the sky still surrendering to the night, it's a gorgeous aqua blue with light orange and tints of white. Roxas walks up and sets aside his weapons as he gazes out to the side. The ship is still docked so no one is manning the wheel. Peacefully still, Roxas gazes down at his rippling reflection in the water, his image only a blob of yellow and black.

Half a minute after arriving, he hears footsteps behind him and turns to find Ventus coming up still fixing his hair. "Sorry I'm late." He smiles.

"Don't worry about it." Roxas waves off. He grabs his two short swords and hands one to Ventus. "Today, we're just going to do a practice sparing session."

"Shouldn't we use, non-bladed weapons?" Ventus nervously asks as he carefully holds the weapon in hand.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you, and you could never hurt me." Roxas smiles a little.

"You're going to eat those words." Ventus smiles.

Roxas tosses his bangs out of his face. "Make me." Time to remind Ventus who he's dealing with. "We'll count a solid touch from the blade end as a strike."

"What?"

"I'm not going to hurt you." Roxas says as he rolls his eyes. "Now, take your stance."

Ventus holds his weapon steady, widens his stance, and rolls to the balls of his feet. Roxas walks towards him and sheaths his sword and moves behind him.

"You're hands are too close together." Roxas says. He moves his arms over Ventus' and grasps his hands, mimicking how his father did when he taught Roxas. "Keep a nice wide grip. It allows better control."

"Okay."

Roxas steps back and walks out in front of Ventus. "Alright, let's see what you've got."

Roxas pulls his sword out in one swift motion and it whistles through the air, and Ventus leaps back to dodge the blow. Spinning, Roxas flips the sword so he's gripping the blade and taps Ventus with the hilt of the weapons before he can raise his arms in defense.

"My point." Roxas says, not bothering to hide his smirk. He pulls back and starts to circle Ventus.

"Lucky shot."

"Nothing is lucky for me." Roxas retorts.

This time Ventus lashes out, but Roxas is ready. Blocking him with the middle of his blade, Roxas whirls beneath Ventus' outstretched arms and slams the hilt again into Ventus' thigh.

Pride keeps Ventus from swearing at the pain. Instead, Ventus sweeps Roxas' feet out from under him. Roxas flips in midair and rolls forward as he lands, coming up with his sword ready.

The controlled grace of his movements would make his father proud. Ventus feels a warm emotions sweeping through him, and deciphers it as pride.

"You're fast. That's incredible." Roxas says, advancing towards Ventus.

"You're not bad yourself. I see you've learned."

"I did practice."

They block, parry, and break apart. Ventus is strong and quick, but Roxas is worried he doesn't know how to anticipate the unexpected. Roxas steps back, inviting an attack, and Ventus charges forward, swinging the blade of his sword like a butcher slicing the head from a sheep. Roxas waits until the last second, then drop to the ground and rams Ventus with his shoulder. Ventus' forward momentum carries him over the top of Roxas and he lands face-first on the wood.

Ventus holds his chin that has a small braise from the wood, and swears, but a new respect for him is in Roxas' eyes.

Roxas laughs, and his fear for Ventus eases into something he can use to focus on planning. Roxas stares at Ventus, a tiny smile flitting across his lips. The affection on Roxas' face makes Ventus feel like then richest man in the world. Roxas offers him a hand up.

"You're doing better, don't let defeat discourage you. You're doing everything right." Roxas assures.

Ventus takes his outstretched hand, closing his soft fingers over Roxas' without breaking their gaze. "Don't feel like it." Ventus replies.

The sun blazes a golden path through their hair. Warmth pools in Ventus' stomach and spreads lazily through him as Roxas approaches.

"Ventus, we've been over this. I've had years of training. And I'm teaching you what my mentors taught me. I know these moves like the back of my hand." Roxas reminds.

"I know but still." Ventus pouts. Roxas chuckles. Maybe this is what family does for one another. Ventus, Demyx, and Axel. They are his family now. Which is why, even as they approach the water of Twilight Town and prepares to face his father, Roxas tells himself he will protect Ventus.

Roxas places a hand on Ventus' shoulder. "You're doing fine, I promise."

Ventus looks up and sees Roxas smiling softly, and Ventus feels warm inside. He almost wants to hugs Roxas, but he doesn't want to have his throat slit. More of the crewmen come up from below, two already appeared before while Roxas and Ventus were sparring, now three more come up still groggy but ready for their duties.

Looking over Ventus' shoulder, Roxas sees Axel leaning in the doorway of his cabin. Ventus turns and follows Roxas' gaze, finding Axel leaning one shoulder in the doorway, hands in his pockets and smiling, his shoulders bouncing with laughter. Ventus whips away, his face turning beat read and Roxas laughing as Ventus covers his face with his hands.

Once the sun is fully passed the horizon, and the sky is a lovely ombre of blue, the crew start their daily routine of manning the sails and securing the ropes. As Ventus sheathes his weapon and rubs his chin, Roxas simply wanders over to a crate and takes a seat. As Ventus goes over to the wheel while Marluxia weighs anchor, Marluxia looks to Roxas and gives him a grin. Roxas shudders and doesn't hide his look of disgust.

Along with trying to find a way to spare the crew their lives, Roxas has barely given thought into how he could possibly indoctrinate Marluxia into the guilds. Probably because with his father scorning the crew, he'll probably laugh in Marluxia's face and slit his throat in the next second. Roxas just assumes that if his father intends to kill the crew, there's no point in convincing his father in having him join. But if Roxas attempts to save them, there's the chance Marluxia could actually make it; but doing that could be of a bigger betrayal to Axel than actually selling their lives. Roxas decides to take a worn out stone Xigbar purchased from a blacksmith, and sharpens his dagger. He sits there brushing his blade along the stone until he's satisfied with the sharpness.

Axel comes up to Roxas and places his lips on Roxas' forehead in a quick kiss. Roxas jerks back and looks to Axel wide-eyed. "What?" he smiles.

"I thought you wanted to keep things professional." Roxas states.

"Not everyone can see." Axel defends, stealing a quick kiss on Roxas' lips. He starts to tilt his head to deepen it. Roxas would pull away but his body seems to just melt at the pressure of Axel's lips that he feels powerless, but in a good way.

Just as Roxas is about to full immerse himself in the feeling, a loud horn startles them apart. Roxas jolts, grabbing the hilt of his knife, and Axel stepping back, holding his lip. Roxas worries he might have accidentally bitten it.

"Captain!" Zack calls.

Axel rolls his eyes. "What?!" Roxas can't help but chuckle slightly at how aggravated he was at being, 'interrupted'.

"Ship approaching!"

Axel's face grows instantly stern and he approaches Zack as he holds a spyglass to his eye. "What sails?"

"White. The flag up by the crow's nest is triangular, striped in black and white and red." Zack deciphers.

"How much time to do we have?" Axel asks.

"Thirty minutes." Zack affirms.

"Alright, men!" Axel shouts. "You heard Zack! Change sails and stall the cargo!"

The men swiftly flurry around the deck and Roxas watches, dodging men as they run back and forth, carrying small boxes and Demyx almost frantically trying to pull down the sails of which contains the logo of the ship. Roxas didn't really notice it's shape until now. What he thought was a simple stereotypical skull and cross bone is actually the flames of a fire symbol, the tips of the flames of which reach the top of the flag. A deep inferno red, it contrasts highly with the black background and inside the curve of the bottom of the flames are two daggers crossed at their blades.

"Wait, what's going on?" Roxas tries to ask a crewman, but they scuttle past him in a haze of activity. Xigbar tosses a new and seemingly clean sail with nothing on it to Demyx who is aided by Luxord to hoist it high above the crow's nest. The ship in the far off distance is coming closer.

As Ventus jogs by, Roxas grabs him by the collar and hauls him back. "Ventus! What is going on?"

"It's another ships coming towards us. It's a cargo transport." Ventus answers, Roxas letting his collar go.

"Okay, so what's the big deal?" Roxas asks. "Why don't you just hand me my daggers and I'll take care of them for you?"

"No, Roxas." Axel stops. "This is different. That other ship you attacked, was a ship just like us. These are tradesmen; they mean us no harm and have potential valuable wares that we can use to our advantage. They don't know who we are or what we do. We need to retain our cover."

"Alright." Roxas agrees.

"Now, let me handle this. You need to hide." Axel says. "Both of you."

"What?!" Roxas and Ventus say in near perfect unison.

"Yes."

"Axel!" says Ventus.

"Come on!" says Roxas.

"No arguments. With that bounty on your head, Roxas . . ." Axel points. "And you both looking alike, I can't afford to have the men suddenly bloodthirsty. And with your father releasing the details of your physical feature, we need to be careful."

Roxas and Ventus exchange a look, and Ventus shrugs his shoulders. Roxas rolls his eyes and sighs in aggravation. "Fine."

"Alright, both of you into a cargo hole. Now." Axel orders.

Ventus takes Roxas' hand and guides him to a hiding hole and Demyx comes over and tosses a tarp over their heads.

"You two just stay calm. Axel will handle this." Demyx smiles.

As the boys settle and carefully peak out of a strategically placed slit in the fabric, Roxas watches as Axel straightens his hair and turns down the collar of his shirt.

"I hate not being able to do anything." Roxas grumbles.

"Hopefully you won't need to." Ventus retorts.

The men have finished disguising the ship to look, what would be normal in their situation and the passing ship blares a horn signaling its approach. Roxas and Ventus kneel down as the ships come to a slow stop. The tradesmen ship lowers a wooden plank and two men wearing navy blue military jackets and shiny black boots approach Axel and his apparent right hand man, Demyx.

"Good afternoon, sirs." Axel pleasantly smiles. "What can we do for you today?"

"Afternoon to you." says one man. He has brown hair pulled back in a neat ponytail and a beard that extends out to impressive mutton chops. "I'm curious as to why you are off course my dear men. All ships approaching the western islands are informed to be moving towards Atlantica. This new assassin guild called the Faceless seemed to have caused quite a bit of trouble in their food supplies being delivered."

Roxas and Ventus exchange looks of surprise and edginess.

"Actually we're from the eastern fleet. We have orders to deliver some cargo to Twilight Town." Axel calmly covers.

"Ah, eastern fleet. Well nice for one of the commanders to let us know he was sending a ship our way." The mutton-chops man says.

"Our apologies sir, I'm sure he meant no disrespect." Demyx quickly covers. "It would seem thieves guilds are quite the popular trend nowadays."

"Oh absolutely. With that Cloud man in Twilight Town and now the Faceless wandering around Atlantica, I'd sooner pay my dues than wander the streets."

"I'm sure the guilds aren't nothing to be feared, sir." Axel says.

"Hmph, I'd like to believe that. But word has it that one of the man's top minions, a very deadly young fellow, is out on the loose. And apparently he's causing ruckus wherever he goes."

"He must have quite the bounty." Demyx says, his tone slightly stiffer, but his posture relaxed as if talking with old friends.

"Of course. His word has reached all the way to Arendelle and Agrabah. He's worth a near fortune. Imagine all the starving, hungry mouths that could feed."

"I wish I could." Axel says. "Any physical details?"

"Only what was gathered by witnesses. At first it started out just a man in black, which was helpful. But through witnesses who matched the uniform to the posters, managed to tell that he's blonde with blue eyes, no older than eighteen."

"An eighteen-year-old?" Demyx purposely adds hints of mockery to his tone.

"I was surprised too, but it's true."

"Now while we have you both here, why don't we trade amongst ourselves and exchange wares?" Axel suggests.

"Oh I would be delighted sir, I actually just got some newfound weapons, but unfortunately they are needed at Atlantica." The man denies.

Roxas narrows his eyebrows at the man.

"Now we had best be going." The man claps. "And don't forget to have your commander send a letter our way."

"We'll have him send two to make sure you get the message." Demyx chuckles.

The men exchange a handshake and a few laughs before Axel and Demyx turns away first and pretend to returns to their duties. As Ventus shifts comfortably and waits for the men to walk away, Roxas can't take his eyes off the two men on the plank as his assistant who barely said anything the whole conversation, whispers to the captain. The mutton-chop man, thinking no one is in ear range, says his answer a little too loud.

"Something isn't right, they should've known that. I think this is a captured ship."

The men turn and Roxas assumes that they'll simply bring the news to another commander, but he hones in his hearing.

"Just wait until we're across the plank, then we'll _sink the ship_."

Without hesitation, Roxas springs up from his position under the sheet and chucks two daggers at the men; both landing in spots in their back. "They know!" Roxas screams. The men toss aside their etiquette and proper clothing and let their hair down and draw their weapons.

Roxas grabs a nearby bow and yanks a sheath free. He aims and fires two at the men waiting on the other side of the ship. Roxas is aware of his blonde hair and uniform exposed, only to hope that the men of the rival ship will assume they were harboring him for the money, which is the truth . . . in a sense.

Immediately Roxas kicks off the plank board, sending the captain and sidekick plummeting into the ocean water. Banging his foot on the side of the ship where the cannons are, Roxas hear them fire ten seconds later. The rival ship sways back, smoke belching up from its starboard beam. Marluxia takes the wheel and the ship sails off as quickly as it can. Behind them, Roxas can see some men drop a rope ladder to hoist the captain and lackey up. Within a minute, they are in pursuit.

"Load the stern chasers!" Axel shouts. "Fire!"

Roxas feels the ship vibrate and runs towards the stern to find two light cannons on its back. They have the ability to angle upwards and downwards, arching the cannonballs high, and even shooting through the water.

"Aim at eighty-two degrees!" Luxord shouts and the cannons adjust. "Fire!"

The cannons shoot and one of the balls arcs high, then descends, shattering the rival's swing guns.

"Aim at ninety degrees! Fire!" Luxord shouts again.

The boom echoes through the air and the ball collides heavily against the enemy's own, exploding in a cloud of black and bits of charcoal.

Ventus has since been guided by Demyx into the captain's quarters. He hides with Demyx who has been assigned to keep him safe. Peeking out, Ventus tries to step out, but Demyx stops him and shakes his head no. Ventus submits to his order, but bangs his head annoyed on the inside wall.

Soon gunfire fills the air and the crewmen take cover. Roxas notices a harpoon poised on the gun deck and feels his heart sink. He watches as the harpoon is adjusted and shoots straight to the mainmast of Axel's ship.

It fires and several men barely make it out of its range. The head pierces through the thick trunk, poking through the other side. Immediately Roxas jumps onto the chain linking it to the mechanism and starts to run across. Drawing his daggers, he spins them in his hands and readies the blade out. Once he sees the edge of Axel's ship disappear out from under him, he leaps and slices at the chain. Flipping forward midair, he lands on the side of the ship and without stopping sprints for a deadeye.

"Stop him!" he hears the captain shout.

Roxas doesn't stop as he runs towards the pulley and slams his foot on it, shattering its contents. As the men try to chase, they suddenly slip and slam onto their backs. The captain looks down and sees little grey balls the size of marbles sprinkled around their deck. He growls as he draws his sword, but he's too late. Roxas is flying high up the mast and throws his weight so that he swings over to Axel's ship. As the captain looks down he sees more balls of the same size scattered now with the grey. Then within seconds, they explode like firecrackers and the men yelp and cover their eyes, hopping from one foot to another in an amusing dance.

Dropping and rolling, Roxas comes up on one knee and tears off his belt of smoke screen bombs. He turns t Xigbar. "Xigbar! Take this! Run to the edge and throw it over the edge!"

Xigbar doesn't argue, but nods his head and starts to run.

"Axel! I'm going to give us some cover!" Roxas shouts.

Just as he finishes, Xigbar chucks the belt in the air. Roxas loads up a flaming arrow and shoots it at the belt. All the bombs explode and grey smoke blooms and billows out and around. Quickly expanding, it swallows both ships. Its hissing becomes deafening and it reduces sight to only two inches in front of your face.

"Jeez, it's so thick you can cut it with a knife." Xigbar says as he uses his hand to shade his view. Suddenly a bullet pierces through, leaving the smoke to curl in its wake.

"Or a bullet." Roxas finishes. He pulls out his own gun and shoots into the haze, and each time Xigabr can hear it pierce flesh from the sounds of screams. Depending on the intensity, Xigbar can imagine where Roxas managed to hit. He knew better than to think the kid was getting lucky shots.

Through the smoke comes another cannonball and it unintentionally strikes at a pile of cargo crates near Axel's cabin. The smell of singed wood envelops the air and the hissing of the still burning wood becomes similar to that of cicadas. Ventus and Demyx peer out from their spot.

"I can't just stand by and do nothing!" Ventus shouts in anger. He draws his knife and charges out.

"Ventus, no!" Demyx screams. Easily he catches up to the boy and grabs his wrist. "I know you want to help, but we can't risk you getting hurt."

"But Roxas-!"

"Can handle himself." Demyx finishes. "Just let us handle this."

Ventus glares at him, and before he can respond, another harsh whoosh of air from an explosion nearly knocks them off their feet.

The ships have cleared the smoke and now sail in open water. Roxas has never felt the ship go so fast, then again he has little to no comparison. Another cannon fires and this time it lands near the hinged rudder of the ship. Marluxia quickly jerks the ship left to stir up waves that extinguish the flames.

Roxas stumbles back a little and feels a hand on his shoulder, he turns to find Ventus. Demyx follows, sweaty and smeared with bits of black dust. Roxas runs for the stern again, without sparing Ventus a hello. Axel comes up and ruffles Ventus' ahir playfully despite being out of breath.

"How're we doing?" Axel asks Demyx.

"Well I guess things can't get much worse." He shrugs.

"Uh, Axel . . ." Roxas calls.

Axel looks over his shoulder and jogs towards Roxas, but as he approaches, he feels his heart sink. Roxas' face is pale, his blue eyes wide in fear and shock.

"What . . . is that?" Roxas says, staring ahead.

Axel looks ahead and feels his stomach shrivel. A dark black mass underneath the water approaches the ship. It slithers from side to side and rounds towards the bow of the ship. In a giant splash of foaming water, it emerges, and screeches; it sounding like a combination of a woman's' death screech and a demon's howl.

It is a hundred foot long serpent, looking like a mutation of a snake and seahorse is covered in teal and blue scales. Its body is lean and is heavily armored with horns and coral-like frill. It also has bright crimson eyes and a long snakelike tongue. It has two long, thin barbells and a set of small, sharp white teeth. Fins protrude from its side and head, six eyes on total on its head.

"The universe just loves proving me wrong, doesn't it." Demyx says as he gazes at the monster.

The serpent howls again, glaring down at the men. Roxas stumbles back into Axel who holds them both up. It hisses and dives its head towards the ship. Roxas and Axel leap out of the way, but are caught in the backlash as they're flung across the deck. The monster hisses and goes again, when a cannon ball strikes it in the face. The creature wails, but roars before diving below. The men follow its dark shadows as it swims underneath the enemy ship before bursting out and over twice, wrappings its body around the forward bow.

Just as Axel and his men think they're safe, the further end of the tail grabs the mizzenmast like an opposable thumb. It turns his head again and opens its mouth.

"Hit the deck!" Axel shouts, immediately hovering himself over Roxas as the slam into the wood, splinters scraping against Roxas' cheek.

Roxas can feel a rush of boiling water just miss the hairs of his head. He listens as it crashes into the mainmast and foremast of the ship, shattering it like a twig. The sails flop and the posts timber down like trees. The foundation of the boat cries and groans into a low-pitched scream as the wood begins to crack and chip like glass. The ship turns in place by the monster and it screams high. The rasp of the hoarse chants of sailors and the shot of gunfire all rose into a hellish cacophony, converging with the sea serpent's glass-shattering scream.

Seconds later, a scream rips through the air. Roxas' blood runs cold. He and Axel both look up and see Ventus coiled in the end of the beast's tail.

"Ventus!" Someone shouts, whether it's Roxas or Axel, neither can tell.

The monster brings its tail high and almost observes Ventus carefully as he wriggles in his confinement. Opening its mouth, it roars in Ventus' face, its jaw unhinging. Roxas shoves Axel off him and sprints grabbing his crossbow. Roxas draws one dagger and leaps up, stabbing it into the monster's tail. As it squeals, Roxas runs up along its tail until he reaches the crow's nest. From there, Roxas pushes off, aiming for Ventus and manages to grab the tail by a fin. Roxas stabs another dagger into the monster, having it loosen on Ventus and grabbing him before it can tighten again. With no other choice, Roxas shoots his crossbow at the rival ship, hitting the mainmast. They swing over, crashing into the crow's nest.

The monster hisses again, and attacks the rival ship, its tail still not letting up. it brings it up and the me scream and scatter as it whips it across the across the deck. It chops through the middle of the mast, causing it to teeter over.

"Hang on!" Roxas screams.

Both jump and grip the fore topmast as the sails crumple. The boys hold onto the nest as it timbers over and stops with the nest dangling over the sea.

"This isn't too reassuring." Ventus says as struggles to keep his grip on the wooden yard.

"Just hang on." Roxas says.

"Roxas!" Ventus cries. Roxas quickly pulls himself up onto the leveled yard, now treating it like a tightrope.

"Hang on, I'm coming." Roxas says calmly.

Ventus' grunts, but tears sting his eyes.

"I can't." he pleads. Ventus' hands slip, and Roxas throws himself forward.

He grabs whatever his hands can find. An arm. A fistful of shirt. The rough lumber scrapes his side as Ventus' weight drags Roxas forward. Roxas is strong enough to lift him, but the wood is cracking.

"Roxas!" Hiccup cries. "Roxas, I'm slipping!"

"Don't move!"

Roxas grunts as he looks around; the fissures in the timber spreading wider. Still on his belt is his crossbow. Roxas can feel Ventus' dainty fingers slipping through his own. Roxas looks down at him. The monster seems to have noticed and now waits under Ventus, waiting for him to drop.

"Ventus, I need to let go!" Roxas calls.

"What?!"

"I need to let you go. But you have to trust me! _Please_ just trust me!" Roxas begs.

Raspy breathes escape Ventus' lips before he speaks. "I do."

Roxas nods and releases Ventus' hand. He doesn't even looks as he draws for his crossbow, then swan diving down towards Ventus. Roxas mimics a projectile as he dives for Ventus. The serpent roars and opens his mouth wide, rising up out of the water by a few inches. Roxas reaches out his hand and Ventus goes to grab it. The moment Roxas snatches Ventus' wrist, he rolls in midair so that Ventus is on top of him. Then he fires the crossbow and a grappling hook launches towards the yard post of Axel's ship. It stabs and sticks into the wood.

Unfortunately, it forces them to swing and come to a jerk stop by banging into the mast. And Roxas fired from his wounded arm. Ventus grips his arms around Roxas' neck tightly, his legs wrapped around Roxas' waist and waits for them to both plummet downward. But they didn't. They both hang, slightly swinging, and though Roxas' grip seemed like iron, Ventus could hear his grunts of pain.

Once Roxas controls his pain, Ventus eases his grip and looks to him. Roxas looks down, forehead smeared with sweat, but he smiles.

"Thanks for trusting me." He mumbles.

The monster seems to have lost interest in Axel's ship and goes back for the rival ship. Marluxia steers the ship away and the men relax as the tension in the air deflates. Roxas presses the trigger and he and Ventus lower down to the deck. Or what remains.

Plating their feet on the ground, they gaze about the dampened deck and the shambles of all their cargo and equipment. Ventus jogs over to Axel who is by a lifeboat and Roxas follows a few steps behind.

"What do we do?" Ventus asks.

"We shall continue on our lifeboats." Axel says with a still calm and cool expression.

"What?" Roxas coos soflty. Axel and Ventus look back and see the guilt in his eyes. Axel pats Ventus' shoulder and whispers to him to go and fetch whatever he can salvage. He approaches Roxas and sighs.

"Roxas the ship is in no further condition to sail. Out masts are shot and without them, we can't mend the sails." Axel informs. "We have no other choice."

Roxas looks all around and Axel can see his lips quiver. "I . . . I'm so sorry, Axel. I didn't mean for this."

"I know."

"I . . . I promise I'll replace your ship and, and everything in it." Roxas stutters.

"Roxas, it's fine."

"Will you stop saying that?!" Roxas bursts in anger. "No it's not! Axel, I've destroyed your ship, you've lost crewmen because of me, as well as all of your valuables. I know you regret keeping me on this ship! And I know you sometimes wish you didn't meet me!"

"That's not true."

"So you're saying that you didn't care about all those memories I destroyed?! Your cabin, your knick-knacks and books and chests." Roxas stutters.

"They mean nothing compared to you." Axel says.

Roxas stops, mid-breath, and exhales in shock. "Are you serious?" he asks almost insulted.

"Yes. I am." Axel says, then plants his lips on Roxas. Roxas whimpers for a moment before Axel pulls back. "You are my new treasure. I only care about you. This is a ship Roxas. And I'd rather lose it than you."

Roxas shakes his head, almost on the verge of crying from frustration. "Wha . . . why?"

Axel stares at him for a moment before speaking. "Because I love you."

Roxas freezes and his mouth hangs slightly open. Axel turns away and finishes loading up the first of the five lifeboats, Ventus comes back, paying no attention to Roxas at the moment. Roxas places his hand to his chest as his heart has tripled in speed. He looks all around the deck, taking in the damage and destruction that he's placed upon the crewmen with his mere presence on the ship.

And yet, Axel claims he'd rather lose all this, than Roxas.

_Why_?

As Roxas tries to think, Ventus' voice breaks him from his train of thought. "Roxas . . . you should get your things." He advises. "I already grabbed your clothes and book that you had. And you already have your weapons. See if there's anything else you want."

Roxas robotically nods. "Okay."

Roxas goes over into Axel's cabin and slowly takes his time as the men ready the boats. The ship has since ditched the rival and the monster, so it lazily sails along, creaking and groaning from all its holes and lack of support. Roxas can see how this wouldn't be enough for the crew, so perhaps leaving is a good idea rather than having to haul the crew up to the surface in the middle of the night.

Rubbing his shoulder, he wanders around, checking the trunks and finding his burlap sack, of which he decides to stuff in a few handfuls of Axel's knick-knacks on his shelf. Then a few books, and finally the remains of the medical supplies left in the cabin. Roxas secures the strap and slings it on his back, fitting it smoothly against his spine.

As he leaves, he can't help but feel slightly sad towards seeing the ship go down. He wishes to take in the moment, but the ship suddenly jerks and rocks. Without waiting, Roxas turns and sprints for the life boats of which are already down.

He leaps over the edge and lands on the closest boat, controlled by Demyx. He crashes and splashes up some water, the boat sways sensitively back and forth.

"Easy!" Demyx says. "We don't want to go down."

"Sorry." Roxas mumbles.

He drops his bag and gets comfortable in the lifeboat. Looking over his shoulder, Roxas watches as Axel's ship starts to sink, stern first, then foaming at the mouth, the water slowly swallows the entire ship before his eyes.


	29. Chapter 28

As they sail, or more appropriately float across the sea now, Roxas can't help but feel morally embarrassed at the state they're in, and more importantly how he had caused it. Bits of the ship and any salvage that managed to float to the surface bubbles and bounces. They slowly become nothing but specks in the water as they row away.

There are a total of four lifeboats, more than capable of carrying what remains left of the crew. A few of the unnamed men were lost, now all the remains are the ones Roxas can remember or has gotten to know. Xigbar, Marluxia, Luxord, Vexen, Ventus, Zack, Demyx, Axel. Seven left of the probably twenty-six men Axel had to begin with. Though he doesn't seem bothered, Roxas know Axel feels grief in the loss of good men. Roxas tries to feel a form of guilt or sorrow, but there is nothing. He didn't remember the names of the men lost, and normally to him that means they weren't important enough for him to remember their names. But this is different, these are Axel's men, they are a family. To Axel, it's probably similar to losing a sibling.

Looking around, the men are getting distraught and seemingly irritated and disappointed in the loss of their ship. Roxas rides with Demyx and Zack who rows the boat. Axel rides with Ventus. Then it's Xigbar rowing with the cargo, Luxord as well, though his haul includes Vexen who simply reads a brown leather book, seemingly unphased. Each of the lifeboats have a small anchor that can keep the boat in place should they decide to stop for the night. The only bright side of this could be that it'll take longer for them to get back to town, or maybe it'll become faster seeing as how these boats could be easily mistaken for food for sharks. Though after the encounter with the serpent, nothing seems more frightening anymore.

It's early evening when Axel calls them to stop and drop their anchors for a meal. Cheese sandwiches are passed around and they eat them in the light of the sun. The weather is starting to grow chilly as autumn is slowly approaching. Roxas keeps his sandwich at his side, staring blankly into the open sea, lost in thought of the Harvest Festival. Houses giving off a warm glow of life with lit windows, smoke from the chimneys, bunches of brightly colored corn affixed to the front doors as decoration. Children disguising themselves as ghouls and monsters, running around squealing in happiness as they stop from house to house to receive sweets. Such fun, and yet Roxas only remembers watching them from afar, curious and mocking the children; yet deep down there was a yearning in him that wanted to apart of the fun.

Roxas intentionally sits at the far edge of the boat so he doesn't have to talk. No one is talking much really. In the relative quiet, the gulls that fly over head take over the sky. Roxas has an urge to shoot one of them down for supper, but with the supplies the men managed to grab before the ship sank, it would seem they have more than enough to last them until they get to town.

Bending his legs, Roxas hugs his knees as he focuses his vision on a single twig floating near the boat. He's wandering his mind to thinking about how he'll possibly sleep tonight, when there's a nudge on his side. Roxas looks over and finds Demyx smiling and settling down in between the thwarts. Zack has taken over the spot of rower once they decide to leave.

"What's a matter? You've barely touched your sandwich. Not a ham type?" he says.

"I'm not hungry." Roxas says flatly.

"You're not getting sea sick _now_, are you?" Demyx chuckles.

Roxas simply shakes his head, keeping his gaze out forward. Demyx sighs and pulls himself up onto the thwart. "Look Roxas, don't feel bad."

"How can I not? I've wrecked your ship."

"It wasn't your fault. In fact, you saved us. The serpent was just really bad timing on my part." Demyx tries to amuse. It manages to make Roxas' lips twitch, but it's overall a meaningless effort.

"But the men lost . . ." Roxas trails off.

Demyx nods. "They will be missed."

"They deserve a proper funeral." Roxas states.

"There's really nothing we can do." Demyx says. "We can only give them our prayers and cherish their memory."

"I'm not one for faith."

"You don't need to be. As long as you carry their memory in your heart, even if you didn't know them well, they will never be forgotten." Demyx says. "Anyone you choose to keep in your memory, they will forever be in your heart."

Roxas looks at Demyx, then drifts his eyes away in forlorn and thought.

Demyx then pats his shoulder. "Now, while we're out here, how about you give us a tune?" he chippers.

"After all that you still managed to save your lute?" Roxas chuckles.

"Of course!" Demyx strums dramatically. "Now, how about you sing?"

Usually, Roxas would decline, but it's kind of impossible to say no to Demyx, given the circumstances. Roxas bites the inside of his lip. "I've told you they're not pleasant." Roxas reminds.

"I know, but at this point I'll take anything." Demyx waves off nonchalantly. "Now come on! Give me something. Anything."

"Careful what you wish for." Roxas mumbles. He tries to think of a song from his younger years. He doesn't have much, seeing as how his father saw lullabies as a form of stupidity. Telling of happily after when life is nowhere near so kind. He saw it as a way of making Roxas soft since he feared Roxas would follow the songs. Roxas remembers he would sing a few of the songs he enraptured from the men while in their bar. He can also recall Lexaeus humming something of a pleasant tune. "Alright." He sighs, Demyx squeaking with glee.

As he sits back and strums, Roxas waves him off.

"I need more of a, fast beat bass." Roxas says. "You know, one-and-two, three-and-four. Five-and-six. Seven-and-eight."

Demyx snaps his fingers, aiming his pointer finger at Roxas and sets aside the lute. He positions himself on the thwart and starts to tap the wood to the rhythm Roxas entices. It astounds Roxas to how quickly Demyx can mimic the tune. He soon starts to hear the other instruments he himself added to the tune to make it seem merrier. The only reason why Roxas was able to sing this out loud is because of his father teaching it to him. But of course one Roxas became a teenager, he forbid Roxas from singing at all; saying that an assassin only sings when drunk or in pain. Roxas taps his fingers to the beat and starts the tune.

"_Axes flash, broadswords swing,_

_Shining armor's piercing ring, _

_Horses run with a polished shield, Fight those bastards 'till they yield._

_Midnight mare and blood red roan, Fight to make this land our own._

_Sound the horn and call the cry._

_How many of them can we make die_."

The other men turn their heads at attention as they become aware of Roxas' voice chiming through the stillness.

"_Follow orders as you're told,_

_Make their yellow blood run cold,_

_Fight until you die or drop,_

_A force like ours is hard to stop_.

_Close your mind to stress and pain, _

_Fight 'till you're no longer sane. Let not one damn cur pass by,_

_How many of them can we make die_!"

Roxas has the men's attention now. In one more verse the song will end. He feels somewhat self-conscious since the song is clearly twisted, especially for something of a child of six to be singing. It wasn't until Roxas was thirteen did he decipher the lyrics, yet still felt nothing was wrong about it. All the time, Demyx doesn't stop his thrumming, and Roxas is grateful as he couldn't finish the song without a point of reference.

"_Guard you're women and children well,_

_Send these bastards back to hell_

_We'll teach them the ways of war, _

_They won't come here anymore_.

_Use your sword and use your head_

_Fight 'till everyone is dead,_

_Raise the blade up to the sky,_

_How many of them can we make die_."

There's a hush on the water. Demyx lightly thumping the wood of the boat. He alternates between the thwart and the side of the boat, shifting the tone of the drum-like sound. Roxas can notice that they have become a similar person; lost in their own world and they become entranced in their activity. A new found respect buds for Demyx as he has his eyes closed, and still manages to tap at the wood with expert hands.

"_Axes flash, broadswords swing,_

_Shining armor's piercing ring, _

_Horses run with a polished shield, Fight those bastards 'till they yield._

_Midnight mare and blood red roan, Fight to make this land our own._

_Sound the horn and call the cry._

_How many of them can we make die_."

Demyx keeps tapping at the wood as he waits for Roxas to finish. But that's it. The song is over. In the stillness, Roxas remembers the scene. He was sitting on the floor of his father's study, set in front of the fireplace. Roxas was only six at the time, singing the lullaby while playing with sock dolls wielding a sword and blade. Not knowing the real meaning of the song, Roxas would have the dolls stab the toy horse he had and make dying sounds. The tune was fast-paced and appealing with its tune that he's heard the men singing. Back then Roxas could memorize anything set to music and weapon related after a round or two. Suddenly a housemaid snatched up Roxas' toys and she started to yell at Cloud. Roxas started to cry because he didn't like yelling, especially if his father replied with an even harsher tone. But Cloud remained calm with a cold face. He replied back, his tone soft and composed, and then Roxas saw him draw his blade and Roxas ran outside.

Seeing as how he only had one hiding spot – a hollowed out trunk of a massive oak tree – Lexaeus found Roxas immediately. He calmed Roxas down and told him everything, and really _everything_. The maid was no longer alive, punished by death for speaking out against Cloud. Roxas walked back with Lexaeus and as they passed the doorway to the study, Roxas looked over and found the woman in a large puddle of her own blood, the white apron of her dress stained and spotted, her hair a tangled mat. The blood splattered his father as well, but his face was still calm, eyebrows narrows in displeasure. Roxas swallowed as his father looked to him. Cloud's expression didn't change and Roxas stared with hard eyes. Roxas didn't sing the song again until a week later while he and his father were in the marketplace. He had brought along his toy and was playing with it along a table of baked foods, the man hosting the stall seemingly growing weary as Roxas sang the song. Within a minute, Roxas was met with a harsh backhand from his father. Despite his tears and cry of pain, Cloud yanked Roxas close and whispered through grit teeth to never sing the song out loud or ever again. So, of course, every word was immediately branded into Roxas' brain.

He didn't sing it anymore or even speak of it. Being older, Roxas began to understand the lyrics. The tail simply tells of an army of warriors fighting against another clan for domination of the land. Nothing too bad, but as he was told by Zexion, the song was only sung among guild members. The lyrics were only vocalized in taverns where they could sing freely, other than that, it's the melody that would signal to a thief when another was near. Nowadays, Roxas can make the connection between the lyrics and the situation of the guilds his father is trying to unite. Combine all the guilds of the city and pit them against the King for rule over the kingdom. Plus the whole thing does sound rather twisted for a six-year-old to be singing. Especially one who stabs his own toys. It's not like that was a strange thing for Roxas to witness, but still he remembers the fear and terror in his body as his father looked to him with the body at his feet. Almost as if he was promising the same fate awaited Roxas should he dare try to rebel.

Turning his head sideways, Roxas sees everyone is watching him intently. Ventus has disturbed look on his face because no doubt the song has dredged up some hideous picture in his head of Roxas slaughtering millions of men. Great. Roxas sighs as Demyx finishes his thrumming, probably making it up along the way and then ending it with a tap on the side of the boat. He smiles and looks to Roxas, with one hand on his knee.

"Not bad." He says.

"Bad?"

"Well, I mean your singing. You actually really good." Demyx compliments.

"Thank you."

"I didn't know you could sing." Demyx says as he adjusts himself. He readies himself to start rowing once more. "Where'd you learn?"

"Self-taught." Roxas answers. He turns his head to look back out to the sea.

"I can't imagine your father ever singing to you." Demyx says. "Learn it from your mother?"

"I don't remember my mother. She was killed when I was young." Roxas says.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault. But I will feel a lot better when I track down the bastard that did." Roxas promises.

Axel stares at the two as he crumples up his sandwich wrapping. "Alright men. Let's weigh anchor."

As the men start to row Demyx levels with Axel, and Roxas looks over to him. Axel smiles and Roxas slightly returns the gesture.

Looking around, Roxas tries to look for signs of familiar waters. He remembers Twilight Town has buoys with starts on the top to signal the swimming limit for those who wish to swim at the beach. As Demyx rows the boat with the others, Roxas glances around, shielding his eyes to look in the distance. He feels his heart skip as he sees the first buoy of the town.

"What?" he gasps.

"What's up, Roxas?" Demyx asks through heaves of breath.

"We're getting close." Roxas mumbles.

Demyx looks over his shoulder. "Oh, so we are."

"No! No, this isn't right. You said we had two more days!" Roxas shouts. Several men turn their heads.

"Well, I didn't -" Demyx starts, but Roxas shakes his head and runs to the opposite end of the boat. Leaping high, he hopscotch's from one boat to the next until he reaches Axel.

"Axel!" he says as they crash.

"Gah!" Axel startles. "What is it?"

"We're close to town. I can see the coastline." Roxas informs.

Axel's face becomes troubled as he looks over to the bow of the boat. He sees the skyline of Twilight Town. He turns back and calls to Demyx. "Demyx! I thought you said we have two more days!"

"Well! It appears I've made a slight miscalculation. I am just a person!"

Roxas groans and ruffles his hair. He feels Ventus pat his shoulder. Glancing to the side, Ventus smiles. "This is bad." Roxas mumbles in his hands.

"I'm sure you'll think of something." Ventus says.

Roxas coldly chuckles. "No pressure."

"There isn't." Ventus says. "So we're early, what's the big -"

"The big deal, is that once we set foot on that land we are targets. _You_ are targets." Roxas snaps

"They won't shoot us with you around." Axel says.

"I can't predict what my guild members with do, Axel. They are under the rule of my father. And once we step foot on land, you will start to see the real me."

"Like we haven't already?" Ventus jokes.

Roxas turns to him, and Ventus' attempted laughter slowly dies. "No, you haven't."

Ventus folds his lips in. Axel claps his hands. "Alright, how about, you take the reins, and we'll just follow behind you?"

Roxas nods. "Seems fair.

"You really plan to leave us in the hands of an eighteen-year-old?" Vexen questions.

"Gods be praised!" Demyx suddenly shouts. "Vexen has found his voice!"

The crew erupts in laughter at this, and Vexen turns red. "Enough of your squallbling! Captain, are you sure it's the wisest choice?"

"He's managed to survive living with us. And he's stopped several casualties of our crew. Besides, this is Roxas' homeland. He knows it better than anyone and that includes all its nooks and crannies of larceny. He'll be our perfect tour guide." Axel says.

Roxas looks ahead and feels his heartbeat pounding against his chest. The moment he's back on shore, the guild members will swoop in on them. Roxas needs to protect Axel and Ventus and Demyx. Where is Vanitas when Roxas needs him? Not just for the information on the Faceless, but just to help him.

Roxas keep staring ahead as the shoreline becomes clearer and closer. His heart starts to beat fast as he sees the familiar docks, now clean of blood and bodies, newly polished and people walking on it normally. The sun is entering the state of late evening, soon it will be dark, and the streets will be crawling with thieves if they haven't already seen Roxas by now. Other ships are docked in and there's a smaller lot for smaller boats, but not many spots are available since people rent them during the day to take out fishing.

"So, where are we going to park?" Demyx asks.

"Here." Roxas points to a spot at the very back of the lot, but it's right beside a pier. And a simply walk up and there's a small back road winds back and around the few houses posted near the shore.

"I would ask how you know this, but I'll just assume." Xigbar comments.

This time, Roxas pulls on his uniform – of which is thankfully clean – his armor and all and wraps his cloak around himself. He readies his weapons and pulls his hood up. "Once we're on land, you _stay close to me._" Roxas orders. I'll take us right to one of the safehouses and we'll travel from there to my father's mansion."

"Mansion?!" Demyx exclaims.

"Yeah."

"You didn't tell us your father was rich!"

"It didn't seem important."

"Plus he's a guildmaster, Demyx." Luxord speaks. "Of course he has riches. He's such a -"

"I would advise you to hold your tongue." Roxas cuts him off harshly. "You're in _my_ town now, and here all walls have ears. Stick close to me, and don't say anything!"

Once the boat reaches the dock, a young boy working the pier approaches and offers to tie it down. Roxas thanks him and gets out first on his own. The other men follow and Roxas immediately starts walking up the road.

"Hey, wait up!" Ventus calls.

"Keep up!" Roxas calls back.

Ventus looks to Axel, who already has a look of worry on his face. they decide to follow after Roxas pays the boy to unload their belongings and take it to a location he exchanges with the boy. His eyes widen and so Roxas must've told him a location known to guild members. The boy nods his head and bows in respect before retreating back.

Marluxia follows quickly and leans in to Roxas. "Don't forget our deal."

Roxas jerks back and glares at him. "Come on!" Roxas shouts.

As they make their way through the village, Roxas can't help but slow down as he takes in the full effect that he's back home. Giving into his urge, Roxas makes a sharp right and out onto the main roads, into the marketplace. Roxas feels oddly exhilarated.

Back in his home town was incredibly rejuvenating. Roxas could just imagine his room with comfy king-sized mattress and a steaming hot shower to wash away the grim and sweat. He finds himself walking faster as he remembers this is the road that leads to the mansions. It takes all his energy to resists breaking into a sprint to see the mansions as he hasn't seen it since the riot.

"Follow me. Quickly. I have a place we can hole up for the night. " Roxas orders.

No one argues but they pick up their pace as they follow Roxas. Ventus, who has memorized the main artery roads of Twilight Town, follows Roxas as he heads down a ramp on Tam Common and onto Merchant Way. There, Roxas ceases to a halt and looks all around. He stares down at his boots as a fine layer of ash settles over the black leather.

The wind has shifted, so the smoke now blows in their faces. Stalls lay smashed, their signs broken and their boards cracked as if by hammers. The windows of every store are still shattered. Fires have consumed a block of five stores on the north side, with three more along the south. Guards stand around the charred wreckage, shifting rubble around while men and woman volunteers carry buckets of burnt bricks and stone. There's been no rain to disturb the ash piles of ash left by the raid, so they shift here and there in reaction to his footsteps.

The crew looks around in quiet as they watch a guard help a woman in lifting a bucket and shifting aside a burnt plank of wood. Roxas and the crew continue traveling down Merchant Way, approaching the wealthy eastern district. The closer they come to center of the city, the more eyes watch them passing. None of the men act intimidated, in fact Demyx seems to take full advantage of Roxas and his power in the city. He walks up to Roxas and wraps an arm around his shoulder. Roxas looks to him but rolls his eyes, letting Demyx arm stay on his shoulder. He understands. They're not used to having many eyes leering envious at them.

"We're not far now." Roxas says aloud, informing the men. "It's in the eastern district. Merchant's Way ends in a fork at the Sandlot and Sunset Terrace. Not far up Terrace is a safehouse. We'll be safe there."

"Wait, why are you saying this out loud?" Ventus questions. "Won't you attract your 'friends'? What if they overhear you? What if they find us?"

Roxas keeps his head straight ahead as he answers. "They already have."

Ventus as well as the other men feel chills run up and down their spines. They suddenly feel like they're walking through a forest of dry tinder, and every crewmen traveling with them is carrying a blazing torch. A single false move means fire. Roxas can't help but smile as he finds his cruel amusement surfacing once more. He has already seen several men following them, all wearing cloaks of black.

They reach the fork at a large open area assumed to be the Sandlot and a road starting upward, meant to be Sunset Terrace. The south path towards the Sandlot is quiet, the Terrace bustles with activity. Roxas turns without stopping and keeps walking, and soon they come across a filthy beggar sitting beside the road. He is blind, and before him is a clay pot. Roxas watches as a chubby merchant wearing red and purple silks atop his tunic tosses in a handful of coins.

"Stay here." Roxas orders.

Before the merchant could escape, Roxas is already there, grabbing the man's arm while stabbing his sword into the pot.

"Let go of me." the merchant shouts as he tries to wrench his arm away. Roxas' grip does not loosen. Now that Roxas is back in his own town, he needs to reestablish his reputation as well as make his presence known. When he pulls his sword out of the pot, the sharp tip has pierced through the center of one of the coins.

"What charity is this?" Roxas asks as the sunlight winks off his blade.

"Help for those less fortunate." says the hubby man as he looks around for someone to aid him. There is none. Axel steps in front of Ventus as they watch Roxas. Axel and Ventus can both feel the others urge to stop Roxas, but this is his town now, and this could be a matter of guild business.

Everyone seems to recognize Roxas' black armor, the holographic emblem on his torn and battered cloak as well as the bits of blonde poking out from underneath his hood. Usually thieves aren't seen during the day. Better to safely ignore the darkness than call it out and risk death.

Roxas is a Prince of Darkness once more.

"Shall you buy your way to eternity?" asks Roxas. The coin slowly slides off the sword, clinking against the cobblestone. "If copper to a blind man saves your soul, imagine your rewards if you threw gold to the feet of a truly holy man."

"You're evil." the merchant says. Roxas feels impressed by his courage.

"Evil?" Roxas calmly asks. He rips the silks from the man's tunic and holds the aloft. "You parade before a blind man in wealth that could feed him for years while tossing him a pittance you will never miss. That is not piety. That is disgusting."

He turns and rams the silk into the blind man's pot. The merchant stands with his hands shaking, his eyes torn between the dark assassin and the silk.

"No fighting, have mercy. A kindness is a kindness, no matter the size." The blind man says, trying to defuse the situation. Roxas only smiles and gestures to the pot. His sword still gleaming.

"What is more important to you?" Roxas asks the rich man. "Your wealth, or your supposed bribes to the fates?"

When the merchant reaches down for the silk, Roxas cuts him down. With two vicious hacks he separates the head and dumps it atop the pot. The blood pours freely, ruining the silk and drenching the few coins within.

"Gifts are always repaid in blood." Roxas says to the blind man. "Altruism is a delusion. Grace is weakness masked in lies."

By now a crowd has surrounded him, showing and pointing angrily. The dark assassin smiles, and when he stretches out his sword, the people make him a path. With so many swarming the streets, it takes a good while for the city guard to arrive. Roxas hears the distant commotion behind him, but feels no fear that they might come searching. They will hear his description, and know him for who he is. That alone will prevent any search. No city guard is dumb enough to challenge the son of an assassin, not without an army at its back.

Despite their delay, Roxas' mood remains good. About a minute after the crowd disperses in talks of outrage, Axel follows Roxas' path towards a back alley, leading the crew. Once he finds the boy standing at the end of an alleyway, Roxas waits until they catch up before turning away and continues on.

"How much farther?" Demyx asks in a quiet tone.

"Not far." Roxas answers coolly.

The men follow Roxas for a few more blocks and turn through a gate into what looks like a private residence. It's a kind of shortcut, because after walking through a manicured garden, they come out of another are onto a small back street that connects two main avenues. They reach a rich set of stores, containing jewelry, silks and exotic fabrics and exquisite glassware and fine tableware. Next to the fabric store is a house that basically looks like a mansion with a too small of space for its massive size. It sits squished between the jewelers and the fabric store, seemingly abandoned with its shades drawn at all windows and the chimney not puffing out smoke, it appears well cared for with clean brickwork and paneling. Roxas walks up, opens the door easily and holds it for all the crewmen as they enter.

"Whoa." Ventus breathes as they step into the foyer.

Tiered crystal chandeliers were dripping from the ceiling. A family room was at the back with velvet plush couches surrounding a table and placed in front of a fireplace with white marble tiles bordering around it. Tall, glass doors were thrown open; the breeze carried the scent of gardenias, which were arranged in tall silver vases, artfully placed on the tabletops. To their right was a study room with more exquisite furniture and draperies on the wall. Upstairs were the bedrooms and a library, all eager to be explored later. Further in, to the left was a hallway leading to a dining room, to the right, a formal living room. A grand staircase seemingly floating on air leads to the upstairs.

"This'll be our safe spot until morning." Roxas says.

"You have places like this all around the city?" Luxord asks.

"Yes. I'll have our chef cook up some food." Roxas says.

"Chef?" Demyx leans over and raises an eyebrow. "Like a personal chef?"

"What else would I mean?" Roxas sarcastically answers. "But she is not the help. You will treat her with respect." Roxas says as he goes towards the kitchen. "Bedrooms are upstairs, you can all puck yourself, except the last door on the left."

Roxas walks around the living room of the home, a small fire in the fireplace and the gold clock on the mantle ticking away. He needs to make sure he can protect the crew, but now that he's actually him, he realizes the least he can do is have his father spare their lives, if only for a day. Roxas hears footsteps and turns around to see Marluxia standing behind the couch.

Roxas rolls his eyes and walks over to a bookshelf beside the fireplace. "I can't make any promises that my father will accept you."

"I have my ways."

"Ways I'm sure, or rather hoping will bite you in your ass." Roxas sneers.

"Now why do you have to be so rude?" Marluxia smiles.

"Because I can guarantee that you have nothing to offer my father. All I can see you good for is being a Worm for secrets. You can't fight, only manipulate your way around, and that will only take you so far, and eventually lead you to death."

"Am I detecting you want out of our deal?" Marluxia says.

"You sound as if I don't have a choice. You can't possibly use anything against me." Roxas says.

"It's like you said, I have a natural manipulative nature."

"And if you were to report something to my father, just who exactly do you think he will believe?" Roxas challenges, his tone low. "You, or me? My father has been in this business a long time, and he's seen all types. You knew my reply was never a guarantee."

"You just need to hold up your end. Because if you don't, I will make you pay." Marluxia says.

"Are you threatening me?" Roxas asks, stepping closer to Marluxia.

"I'm perpetuating you."

Roxas shudders and thrusts his dagger towards Marluxia, spinning the hilt last minute so that it crashes into Marluxia's head. When he hits the floor, Roxas climbs over him, pressing the tip of his dagger into the man's neck.

"That's my job." Roxas snarls. He presses the tip of his dagger into Marluxia's neck, enough to draw a single drop of blood. Marluxia only looks to him before he passes out on the floor.

Unceremoniously, Roxas tosses Marluxia's body onto the couch and leaves the living room.

Walking into the dining hall, the room was lit by hundreds of tiny black votive candles, and stands of black glass beads hung from the chandelier. The entire hall was soaring and grand. It was blue and had crystal snowflakes hung suspended from the vaulted ceiling, wavering ever so slightly. Embroidered pillows and carpets lined the floor, while thick clouds of sweet smoke hazed the air. Lethargic courtiers sat, stooped, and stood around hookah pipes and bowls of smoking incense. A heavy perfume pervaded the space, making Ventus dizzy.

The scent of cinnamon, freshly baked bread, and spiced meat seeped to her nose, causing her stomach to growl like that of a ravenous dog. The smell of perfume and wine mingled with the scent of the rich food. More draperies hung suspended from the vaulted ceilings. A warm fire crackling in the hearth.

Victorian chairs bordered the table while a fireplace with a cherry-finish wood, sat at the vey back of the room. Golden candelabrums poised on each end. A mahogany hutch stood guard along one wall, holding the most exquisite plates, bowls, gravy boats, glasses and a few crystal figurines.

A chandelier with crystal balls dangling off the arms hung suspended above them with bulbs shaped to looks like the flame of a candle.

The table was lined with more exquisite delicacies. Everything the men could think of, and things they never dreamed of lay in a row down the rectangular table. Whole roasted pigs with apples popped in their mouths, huge platters of fowl stuffed with savory fruits and nuts, ocean creatures drizzled in sauces or begging to be dipped in spicy concoctions and countless cheese, breads, vegetables, sweets, waterfalls of wine, and streams of spirits that flicker with flames.

The men all swarm around the table and take their seats as Roxas approaches. He sits at the head of the table and pulls down his hood.

"Where's Marluxia?" Luxord asks.

"Who cares, nobody wants that pink-haired pervert around." Xigbar answers.

Roxas ignores the glances Ventus and Axel give him and instead loads his plate with food before passing it around. He listens to the conversations that Demyx seems to lead as the men interject every once in a while and laugh at his tales. Then the head of the dialogue bounces around from one member to another. Roxas manages to force down a few bits of salad and a slice of roast beef. Even though he isn't much hungry, the men devour the food within the span of an hour, then they all retreat to their rooms where their food comas easily overtake them.

While the snores in the house increase, Roxas moves carefully along the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the front of the house, keeping far enough back from the drapes that no one approaching the edge of the property can catch a glimpse of him.

Someone is out there. Roxas can't see them yet, and they might be expert enough to stay just out of range, but Roxas knows they are being followed. Roxas knows it has to be the guild members as they knew how to pick up their trail on the road.

But what they don't know is of the 'unknown twin' Roxas has. And having them mistakenly kidnap Ventus is a risk he can't afford to take. He'll have to watch Ventus for the night.

Walking up the stairs, Roxas navigates his way to Ventus' room, which is the only room with the door slightly ajar, letting out the seemingly piercing buttery light in the dark hallway. Roxas approaches and knocks twice before stepping in.

"Can I come in?" Roxas asks.

"Go ahead." Ventus smiles. Roxas steps in, shutting the door behind him and finding Ventus on a couch near the fireplace, a book in his hand.

The walls are a peaceful, calm color with naturist wall ornaments and a huge chandelier dripping from the ceiling. The floors are mainly wood with a thick plush carpet stretching the length of the room. There's a large floor to ceiling window with cross-hatched X's along the glass. The thick gold-and-red velvet draperies spilling from the window, like motionless crimson waterfalls. Enormous tapestries hung over the walls. Marble floor-to-ceiling pillars stand at every corner of the room, while a large fireplace plays as centerpiece of the room; a gold clock the only thing on the mantle. Around the fireplace are couches and armchairs with delicate designs and embroidered pillows.

There's a mahogany hutch, wardrobe and dresser all together on one wall with a vanity across the way. Next to the bed is an end table with a glass of water. The bed itself is a four-post, canopy bed with elegant curtains tied to the posts.

"Couldn't have asked for a nicer room."

"I'm afraid you can't get too comfortable." Roxas says as he sits on the couch next to Ventus.

"Still, might as well enjoy it while I can." Ventus smiles. After a moment of silence, and Roxas staring off into the fire, Ventus speaks again. "So, not that I don't appreciate your company, but why are you here?"

Roxas looks at him and exhales through his nose. "I'm here to protect you." his voice is cold, empty, and more than a little scary. Gone is the courteous, understanding Roxas Ventus has been traveling with for nearly three weeks. In his place is a fierce predator willing to do whatever he must do to obliterate anyone who stands between him.

Ventus swallows and takes a breath that rattles his shoulders. "Oh."

"Don't worry. I'll protect you." Roxas says as he tickles Ventus' shoulder.

Ventus shrinks into himself and giggles. "I know you will."

For the next hour, Roxas sits or lies on the couch, browsing through Ventus' pile of books he stuffed in a bag before leaving the ship, until Ventus goes to sleep. Roxas extinguishes the fire and then spends the next thirty minutes sitting in an armchair with his dagger in hand.

Something moves in the mass of trees.

Roxas stands and heads for the window, and he scans the grass, raising his eyes to the tree line, and finds them in less than a minute.

Standing two trees in, watching the front door and moving restlessly beneath the fading rays of the full moon. Stars of the night glitter like shards of silver in the dark sky.

Amateurs.

Roxas decides to go out back and circle around. Checking the window on the opposite end, there is no one watching from behind. He'll need at least one hour to trick them into thinking everyone is asleep. Then he'll have to fool them by pretending he's leaving the house.

Heading downstairs, Roxas marks the time by lighting candles in the kitchen and assembling a snack from the supplies the chef keeps here.

Making sure his shadow doesn't reflect off the walls, he crouches low and waits for the candles to burn out.


	30. Chapter 29

The hour is up.

Checking that his dagger slides easily from its sheath, Roxas lights a small torch, the better to make himself seen, and opens the front door. The loamy scent of the sun-warmed ground is fading into the crisp chill of night. Roxas creeps along the length of the porch, peering beneath the boards as if he expects to find something.

Roxas' skin prickles with awareness. He is being watched.

Which is exactly the point of this entire charade, but it doesn't make him feel any better.

He leaves the porch and wanders to the side, still in full view of the guild members at the tree line. Roxas feels exposed with his brilliant little torch ablaze amid the overgrown grass and the distant icy stars. The tingle of awareness becomes full-fledged, adrenaline-fueled need to draw a weapon and be ready for anything.

Roxas doesn't ignore it.

Instead, he drops down, shoving the lit end of the torch deep into the soft soil at his feet to extinguish it, and runs as silently as he can away from the spot where he was last seen. In seconds, he hears someone crashing through the grass behind him.

Roxas dodges to his left, drops to a crouch, and freezes. The darkness will cover him. The person following him can barely see in the shadows. He should feel guilt or probably resentment for killing off members of his guild, but if these are amateurs, that can only mean that his father sent them out to get them killed.

This person also doesn't have the sense to stop moving once he no longer hears Roxas. Soft footsteps creep towards the spot Roxas just vacated. He slides his dagger free without a sound, and readies himself.

Cold determination sets Roxas up to shed someone's blood without giving them fair notice.

The pursuer is close enough that Roxas can hear his breath now, rough, uneven pants that speak of someone without the proper training to control his breathing when it matter most. Roxas waits until he's a mere three yards from Roxas, and tense for his attack. Once the silhouette of the person comes, his gaunt frame a black smudge against the starry sky, Roxas springs forward swiping the man's feet out from under him and as he face-plants into the ground, Roxas rushes to stand over him and drives his knife in-between the man's shoulder blades. He gags and Roxas quickly pulls out the dagger and grabs the man's hair, pulling his head up. Slicing at his throat, the man gags on his blood and stiffens under Roxas.

Quickly Roxas retreats back into the shadows, dragging the body with him. Even if the blood stains on the ground, perhaps the other will follow in curiosity, or try to retreat. Either way, he's a goner.

Roxas quickly but silently maneuvers to the other side of the house, where he finds the second thief watching near the tree line for anything to come from the woods. Roxas drops his shoulders and sighs to himself.

_Idiot_.

Drawing a throwing knife from his belt, Roxas twirls it between his fingers before chucking the thing through the air. It sticks into the back of the man's neck. He gags and coughs up blood, and falls to his knees. To ensure he can't crawl from the spot, Roxas smoothly approaches and jabs his dagger into the side of the man's head. Pulling it out, a stream of blood starts to pool from the man's ear.

Roxas stands and wipes his blade on the cloak of the man and heads back to the house. Those two are the only ones, he is sure. As he gently closes the front door, he takes five steps in before pausing and snickering. "I didn't think you were much of a night owl." Roxas says.

"Well you'd be amazed at how fetching a simple midnight snack can lead you to discover wondrous things." Axel retorts.

Roxas turns his head to the couch in the living room and finds him with a small plate of the chocolate cake the chef had cooked at dinner.

"I'm assuming you had some business, to take care of?" Axel asks as he pops another piece in his mouth.

Roxas walks over to the armchair and plops down. "Of a sort. A couple of members were following us. They're taken care of."

"I can see. But won't you get in trouble for killing them?" Axel asks.

"No. They were amateurs. Not even fit to wear the emblem of my father's guild. How they even got ranked into _our_ guild is what surprises me more."

"You guys have like, a point system here?"

"Kind of. Different guild name, different guild level." Roxas puts it simply. "And are you up just t grab a slice of cake, despite it being your third of the night?" Roxas teases. He stands and sits next to Axel.

"No, I actually went to go and check on Ventus and just decided I was hungry." Axel replies. Roxas chuckles and takes Axel's fork and eats a piece himself. Axel lets Roxas take a few bites before taking back the fork.

"So, are things going okay?" Roxas asks and Axel knows he's talking about more than just finding the house comfy and cozy.

"Uh, in a sense." Axel answers as he licks the frosting off of the fork.

"Care to elaborate on that?"

Axel sighs and puts down the plate. He adjusts his seat, draping one arm over the back of the couch and folding one leg under. "Look I know you need to preserve your figure and reputation as son of Cloud, and I get why you do what you do, but it's still just, shocking."

"I told oyu to be prepared." Roxas reminds.

"I know, I know, and you also said that I don't know much about you. And I don't, but I just feel like, now, you're putting on an act. And please don't take that as an insult but that's just how I see it."

"I can understand that." says Roxas.

"Can you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Roxas, comparing you to how you are here, to how you were on the ship, it's not something I'm foreign to, but I don't know who the real you is. I mean you seemed to open up to us, and now that we're back, you're . . . not cold, but you're just -"

"Dark?"

"I guess, you can put it that way." Axel agrees.

"Axel you know I have to represent my father." Roxas says.

"I know, but that's the objective. On the ship, you seemed . . . yourself. You didn't have your father's influence on you; I mean you did but it wore off and you seemed happy. And you liked it."

"And now we're home and I need to focus on business."

"Roxas can you really let al that go so easily?!" Axel's voice rises.

"I never said I had let it go!"

"No, but you act like it. Like everything that happened didn't mean anything."

"Axel, my father wanted me pure -"

"And look how that turned out. You know you're different Roxas. Compared to how you were before to now, we can all see it; even if you're blind to it yourself. You've done things that you know you're father would never approve of."

"Axel, I promise you, nothing was a waste on that ship. This is all just part of a bigger plan." Roxas says.

"Then you wouldn't mind telling me what that is?" Axel insists.

"I can't."

"Why?!"

"I just can't, Axel! This whole thing has been so confusing that I don't seem to know what's right and wrong anymore. I thought I did, but after being with you, I'm . . . overwhelmed."

"So you're saying it's my fault."

"No."

Axel signs in aggravation and rubs his eyes. "Roxas, see this is what I'm saying. I don't know who you are. And I'm starting to think you don't _want_ me to know. How do I know which one is the _real_ Roxas? Who is that?"

"I can't tell you because I don't know!" Roxas counters. "I had a clear future and path in my life before I stumbled upon your ship! I had a perfect plan in place to get back home and forget all about you! But then . . . then I started to see something that I had never witnessed before. I was, curious. And now, not even I know what's right and wrong anymore. And I can't just leave behind my father and everything he's prepared me for -"

"But that's not your destiny, Roxas. It's something someone else has placed upon you." Axel interjects.

"What's wrong with having a future set for me?"

"Because it narrows you to the world and to _life_!" says Axel. "There's so much that you can experience past the blades and poison and shadows. Now I know you can't leave all that behind in a snap. It's your life, something you've always known. I'm just saying that you have the power to control your own life, and make your own decisions. Get out there and experience it!"

"I've experienced the true way of life, Axel. And it's cruel. There's nothing out there for me but betrayal and deception." Roxas states.

"What about Pence, Olette? I saw you looking at them, admiring them. You may have power and riches, but control with fear can only go so far. If you still want to be the new heir to the criminal empire, that's fine. But you can still control it in your own way." Axel explains.

"You don't get the kind of responsibility I have for me Axel, seeing as how you've lived your life with so little responsibility in yours."

"Excuse me?"

Roxas rises from his seat. "You and you men just sail around the world, stopping in whatever town you come across and once you've taken everything from it, you burn it to the ground. You're _exactly_ what the cruel world has to offer!" Roxas stabs.

"And yet look at me and what I've got. I don't have a fancy house or multitude of houses and I don't have much food and running water. But I'm happy. I'm actually happy! And you know what, my crew is loyal to me. I don't have to worry about treason."

"Oh really, is that why Marluxia came to me, wanting to transfer?" Roxas suddenly says, regretting it the moment he speaks it.

Axel looks to him in shock. "What?" Roxas folds his lips in and turns away, shaking his head. "What, Roxas!"

Roxas looks to Axel and gives a cold stares. "Marluxia came to me while we were in Atlantica. He said he was tired of the crew and wanted to trade for my kind of lifestyle. I guess the pirate's life wasn't for him."

Axel looks to him and Roxas watches as the thoughts turn his emerald eyes to darkened green. He shifts his gaze to the fire, the fames blazes a golden path through his fiery hair. He then snarls and pushes up from his seat. Roxas rounds the couch and reaches for Axel's wrist, when he tries to wrench it loose, Roxas grips righter.

"You can't call it treason, Axel." Roxas says.

"And why not?"

"He just wants to transfer, Axel. So he didn't come to you, what's the big deal?"

"You're defending him?" Axel seethes.

"No, I'm examining everything Axel. I don't know much about your lifestyle, but what's the big deal of him wanting to leave?" Roxas questions.

"Because I gave him everything! That scum-sucking bastard is so ungrateful! What did you tell him?"

"I told him I will try." Roxas admits. "And that there is no guarantee. Besides, I've seen what he is and my father will never accept him. He has nothing to offer, and once he finds that out, he will come crawling back to you, and then you can do what you want with that." Roxas says."

His seems calms Axel slightly as he takes deep breaths but groans in annoyance. Roxas takes his hands and angles his head so he's kind of peeking into Axel's view.

"Look, I'm sorry that this happened, but it's like you said; you never know what's going to happen in life." Axel scoffs. "And listen, I know I've been acting different, but you have to understand that this is my father we're talking about. And he plans to kill you for taking me, even if by accident."

"And what do you plan to do?" Axel asks as he turns to Roxas.

"To think on my feet."

"Well that just instills me with confidence." Axel says as he turns away ready to head up the stairs.

Roxas grabs his wrist to stop him, pulling him back. "Please, Axel, you have to trust me."

Axel looks to the boy and slightly shakes his head. His voice is soft, but still it hurts. "Why should I?"

Roxas folds his lips in. The truth is, Axel shouldn't trust him. Roxas still hasn't told him about how he's sold out Axel to his father in an attempt to get him back home. He sold him out. But then again, he's doing something about it. He's determined to keep Ventus and Axel alive, and the thought of his father taking their lives infuriates them. So Roxas say the only thing that could be the most truthful words he can speak.

"You just have to." Roxas says.

Axel looks to him and sighs, almost disappointed. "That's not enough, Roxas."

Pain tugs at Roxas chest as he can feel his hope for Axel diminishing. But he can't just let Axel go with an idea that Roxas will betray him. Without realizing what he's doing, Roxas takes Axel's wrist again and pulls him back. Before Axel could say something, Roxas stops his lips with a kiss.

He feels that thing again. The thing he only felt once before when they were in Atlantica. He hasn't kissed Axel much after that, but Axel kissed him. There is a difference, right? But that one, the one that happed on the rooftops is the only one that made Roxas feel something stir deep inside. Only one that made him want more. Roxas would argue to Axel on how he can say he 'loves' Roxas, but can't afford to trust him. But this is one of the few moments that they are truly alone together after Roxas has taken out the two thieves sent to spy on them. And after a few attempts, Axel gives up.

The sensation inside Roxas grows warmer and spreads out from his chest, down through his body, out along his arms and legs, to the tips of his being. Instead of satisfying him, the kisses have the opposite effect, of making his need greater. Roxas assumed he was something of an expert on hunger, but this is an entirely new kind. Roxas gives a soft gasp as he feels Axel's arm wrap around his torso, and his other hand brushing over the tattoo on his chest. Roxas' arms move up along Axel's arms before gathering at his neck. He feels Axel groan, the vibration traveling through the fibers of Roxas' muscles. The sound is so incredibly . . . attractive. As Axel's lips explore Roxas', in his heated state he finds the words to say to Axel and feels excited.

Despite his body whining not to, Roxas' hands hold Axel's neck and he forces himself to pull back. Roxas takes a breath and sighs. "Axel, you said that you loved me, is that right?"

Axel looks to him with gentle eyes. "Yes." He breathes.

"Then you _have_ to trust me." Roxas insists. He cups Axel's face, his thumb stroking across Axel's cheekbones. Axel's bone structure is something of a marble statue seen around extravagant fountains with golden basins and angelic statues spilling water from gilt horns. "Please Axel, I _need_ you to trust me. Even in the bleakest of moments I need you to keep faith in me. Prove your love for me by doing that. Can you?"

Axel's eyes seem to plead with himself to trust the boy, but at the same time he can't seem to put his faith in the boy given his reputation.

"_Please_." Roxas whispers.

Pressing his forehead to the blonde's Axel takes a deep inhale. Roxas smells of timber wood and dew grass. "Okay."

Roxas takes a step in and rests his head on Axel's chest, wrapping his arms around him in an embrace. He sighs. Axel does the same, his arms wrapping around Roxas and resting his chin on the blonde's head.

A crash from upstairs breaks them apart, their hearts nearly jumping out of their chests.

"What was that?" Axel asks, but he and Roxas are already bounding up the steps.

"Check on Ventus." Roxas instructs. Axel obeys and runs down the hall to Ventus' room. Roxas runs the opposite way and heads for the origin of the sound. He narrows it down to the two back rooms, of which are occupied by Demyx and Zack. Roxas goes for the second to last door, barging it with his shoulder. He bursts into the room to find Zack already up out of bed. He turns to Roxas and sighs in relief.

"Roxas." Zack breathes in relief.

But Roxas is already running out the door and to Demyx's room. Zack follows without a word and helps Roxas in barreling through the door to Demyx's room. Demyx is still in bed, but jumps in his sheets when he hears the door break open. "Gah!"

Roxas immediately goes to the window and pulls his blinds shut. Zack walks over to the bed. "Demyx are you okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be -?"

"Get out of bed. Now." Roxas demands as he draws his blades. Demyx scrambles out of bed and into a pair of pants, snatching his weapon on the chair in his room.

Roxas speed walks out of the room and runs down the hall to Ventus' room, but the doors burst open by themselves and out runs two men in black cloaks. Roxas spins his weapons but they run past him. Torn between wanting to go back and run into Ventus' room, Roxas flings his daggers at the two men, managing to embed in skin and turns away without waiting to see if it makes them falter. He runs into Ventus' room and finds Axel and Ventus on the floor. Axel is kneeling, Ventus behind him, his face red and blotchy with tears.

A third man in a black cloak stands over them, Axel cupping his sternum, a small stain of blood under his fingers. The man is large, and Roxas would've recognized the shape if it weren't for the initial panic running through his head. The man raises his weapon, an axe, and goes for a death blow.

"_No_!" Roxas screams.

He charges forward drawing his daggers, but the man turns around and Roxas is ready. He blocks the man's downward blow and slams his foot into the man's stomach. Without giving him time to react, Roxas pushes off his weapon and goes to stab the man in the ribs. He blocks it and tries to swipe at Roxas, but he rolls towards Axel and Ventus planting his feet in front of them, coming up on one knee. He spins the blade of his dagger out when he sees a familiar square chin. He stops and so does the man.

"Lexaeus." Roxas says.

"Roxas?" the man's deep voice replies. He lowers his weapon – of which Roxas can see now is a tomahawk – and pulls down his hood, revealing his ginger hair. Roxas relaxes and lowers his weapon. "You really are back."

"How many others are here?" Roxas demands. He sheathes his weapon and immediately whirls to Axel and Ventus. Roxas gathers Ventus in a hug and tries to cease his sobs, or rather hiccups with loud exhales. As he pets Ventus' head, Roxas looks to Axel and sees the spot of blood hasn't changed much in size, so either it's not too wide but deep, or Axel's applying enough pressure to stop it from bleeding.

"Only Zexion and Saix." Lexaeus replies.

"Make them stop!" Roxas orders. Lexaeus leaves the room immediately and leaves out into the hall. Roxas holds Ventus and coos to him to calm down. "It's okay. You're okay now."

"Are you sure?" Ventus weeps.

"I promise." Roxas wipes away Ventus' tears with his thumbs. "I will protect you."

Ventus sniffles and nods his head. Still keeping one hand cupping Ventus' cheek, Roxas looks to Axel and moves aside his hand.

"How do you feel?" Roxas asks.

"Hurts like a bitch, but at least it's not too deep." Axel replies.

"Can you stand?"

"Probably."

Roxas and Ventus both help Axel to his feet. He seems to be able to stand on his own, as Roxas nor do Ventus feel any leaning on their side. Axel still holds his stomach as he grabs his gun that's been knocked aside. Roxas tells them to stay there as he leaves the room and peeks out into the hall. Zexion stands over a now cuffed Zack and Demyx. Luxord, Xigbar, Vexen, and Marluxia are all being dragged out of their rooms by Lexaeus and Saix. When Saix shoves Luxord to the floor, his hands tied, Roxas feels a burst of rage ignite in his chest.

"Be careful!" He shouts. He captures Saix and Lexaeus' attention, Saix in particular giving him a glare. Roxas approaches the circle of tied men, Axel and Ventus not far behind him, peeking out from the threshold.

"I'd like to apologize, Master Roxas," Lexaeus says.

Ventus looks to Axel and mouths, "Master?" Axel shushes him and turns his head to the group of men in black cloaks.

"I had wandered into the room thinking the boy was you. Though I suppose I should've something was amiss when I actually managed to wake the boy." Lexaeus says.

"You are pardoned. And I assume my father wants up back at the house?" Roxas speculates. Lexaeus nods. Roxas sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. "Okay."

Saix yanks Xigbar and Luxord to their feet, making them grunt in pain while Lexaeus pulls Demyx and Zack.

Roxas snarls. "Did I not say to be careful!" he shouts.

"Why do you care if they're hurt."

Roxas glares at Saix. Lexaeus keeps his eyes on the boy and Demyx looks from side to side with flicking eyes. Roxas approaches Saix with a rigid walks drawing his dagger. He stops in front of the man. "These men have done enough for me to spare their lives, and I will not have them tarnished because you feel they deserve such punishment. You follow _my_ orders."

"Well your father ordered we kill them on spot." Saix counters.

"I don't give a fuck." Roxas growls. "If you are to escort me back home, you will do as _I_ order you to do. Do you understand?! If not, I can easily make you."

Saix snarls. "Don't expect anything but honestly from me when your father asks for reasons."

"I wouldn't expect nothing less. You've been kissing my father's since I was born, I'm surprised your lips aren't chapped." Roxas snitches.

Before Saix could draw his weapon, Lexaeus grabs the man's wrist and shakes his head. Roxas walks over to Axel and offers hi shoulder, but Axel declines. Roxas takes Ventus' hand and starts to head towards the stairs.

"Saix you will lead." Roxas says. Lexaeus, you will guard from the back, but _don't touch_ the men. Unless I say so."

"Once we get to the mansion, your father will be giving the orders." Saix comments.

"Well I am the future successor to his world, so my word is just as powerful. And I would advise you not to leave my good side, because by then, I will have the power to get rid of you." Roxas says coldly.

When the reach the first floor, Roxas runs to the living room and blows out all the candles and grabs his sack full of supplies. Of which he pulls out syringe and gauze wraps. Without waiting for Axel's consent, Roxas removes the cork on the end of the needle and injects into Axel's side.

"Ow!" Axel says and instinctively goes to smack Roxas' hand away, but Roxas catches it as he pushes down on the plunger. Once the painkiller is in, Roxas unravels the gauze.

"Lift your shirt." He orders. Axel obeys and rolls it halfway up. Roxas immediately starts to wrap it around his torso, aided by Ventus and secures it with a pin. "That should hold you over until we reach the mansion."

Axel nods, his forehead moistened with sweat. He rolls his shirt back down and as they walk, Roxas keeps his hand with Ventus', but mindful of Saix's lingering stare on Axel. Roxas keep close to Ventus as they approach the main road.

"My father built tunnels leading out to a couple different homes and alleys," Roxas says as he adjusts his black cloak, cinching it tighter to his body.

"For escape?" Ventus says as he attempts to keep the conversation.

"Sometimes. There are times when no one, not even out guild, can see us." Roxas says. "Not going. Not coming. This is one of those times. This is one of those times. Do you understand?"

"I'm no child." Ventus says.

Roxas can't help but smile. "Maybe. But when blood gets spilled you sure do act like one."

"A most impressive silver tongue you've gained, Roxas." Lexaeus says as he smiles at the boy.

"I've always had one, Lex. I just needed someone to help bring it out." Roxas says.

"The tunnels are waiting." Saix says.

They duck into a corner near a shop named Alice's Wondrous Treasures. Roxas tries to ignore the painting of a cat with a smile so wide it looks grimace; it seemingly always managing to creep him out. Saix crouches, feeling the stone for something out of order. The stone soon turns to painted wood. He pulls up the few boards hidden behind a stack of crates and barrels. Cut into the packed dirt is a hole curving deeper underneath the ground, like some oversize rabbit hole.

"Remove their binds." Roxas says, and Lexaeus does. "There will be no light." Roxas says. Ventus stares into what looks like the gullet of some enormous monster.

"Man, look who you're talking to about tight spaces." Demyx cracks the joke.

"What about tight spaces?"

"We'll be fine." Axel speaks.

"I'll go first." Saix says.

After Saix goes first, Roxas looks up and winks at Axel despite Lexaeus being there. As Ventus approaches, Roxas adjusts himself. He looks up to Ventus gripping the ladder.

"Try to crawl slow and steady, and under no circumstances panic. It might feel tight at times, but keep crawling, and remember that if Lexaeus can fit, you surely can."

Ventus nods.

Headfirst, Roxas climbs into the hole and is gone. After a count of five, Ventus follows. At first he can see, but when the tunnel curls lower the light of the breaking dawn outside fades. Ventus' heart flutters, but he imagines the jokes Roxas' lackeys will make about him, as well as what would happen when Axel bumps into him from behind. There's the clanking of the men coming down the ladder, then the clang of the cap to the tunnel. Hand after hand they crawl into the darkness.

Gradually the tunnel narrows. Instead of crawling on their hands and knees, the men have to fall to their stomachs and pull themselves along.

"How long did it take?" Demyx asks, and is startled by how loud his voice sounds. Some part of him, as well as the other men seemed to think the darkness would swallow his words, smothering them in the void.

"Take to do what?" Roxas asks from father up the tunnel. His voice rumbles in the dark, and Luxord holds in a curse as his head thumps the roof of the tunnel. Ventus feels like a skittish rabbit.

"To dig all this?" Demyx says.

"Two weeks." Roxas answers. "All day. All night. Two died in this tunnel alone."

Ventus shudders. Thankfully Demyx decided not to ask how many had died digging the rest of the tunnels that no doubt snakes out in all directions of the city. Occasionally their fingers would brush against wood supporters, and each time their hearts are thankful. Any sense of humanity in the darkness, however remotes, is a blessing.

The tunnel veers upward sharply. Roxas isn't sure how long he has crawled, though the pain in his back insists it has been at least half an hour. His mind guesses a more reasonable ten minutes. Soon dim light lights up the tunnel, but to their eyes it is a hazing beacon, and seeing it, the crewmen smile. Roxas climbs up after Saix and holds out his hand for Ventus. His head emerges in the middle of a beautifully decorated room. Roxas hoists him out of the tunnel. Ventus looks at Roxas as he pulls Axel out next. A bit of dirt has joined the sweat on his face and hands, only reinforcing the weight image he had. Roxas can tell the men are happy to be out of the tunnel.

With only darkness visible outside the tall windows, Axel has nothing to go on but a vague sense of the direction in which they've crawled.

"This way." Saix instructs.

Roxas can't fight the feeling of excitement he feels when he realize that they're about to enter the ballroom.

When the crewmen enter the ballroom, they're nearly floored by the size and grandness of the room. Tired crystal chandeliers were dripping from the ceiling. The ballroom is white as snow and decorated on pastels, opened large and wide around a circular dance floor filled with revolving dancers. Gilt details chased the curved wall and netted the dome ceiling far above. The whole room glistens and sparkles like the inside of a Faberge egg. Dressed like iridescent dragonflies, the musicians sat huddled in one corner. They played their instruments feverishly, bowstrings fluttering like the wings of the insets they represent. The rhythm they kept is a steady one-two-three, one-two-three.

A monstrously huge oil painting of Roxas and Cloud hangs along one wall. Axel wanders over to the painting, gazing in awe at its intimidating size. Roxas feels a little embarrassed. Cloud sits in a golden armchair with clawed ends and has a long sharp sword stabbing into the red carpet, while Roxas sands behind him in his guild armor, holding a rapier. Both carry a menacing glare that ices anyone's blood as they stare.

"Impressive." Ventus says to Roxas. Roxas only shakes his head.

They pass through an archway, and violet walls hug in close around them in a short, curving, almost tunnel-like passageway. It funneled them into another room of about the same size. Reaching the archway into the next room, Roxas has to pull the men to one side to avoid being trampled by a long train of reveler thieves. Their cloaks billow out behind them, their hoods concealing their features.

"Your father is in the study, Roxas." Lexaeus informs. Roxas nods and takes a deep breath. "I'd advise we all go."

"Okay. Let's get this over with." Roxas mumbles.

They maneuver through the dim hallways of the castle, which have no windows, not hint of the world outside. Roxas can almost feel the paranoia emanating from the walls, like the terminal itself is terrified of unfamiliar eyes.

Their footsteps echoed against the polished wood floor. The crew members crane their heads at the incredible height of the ceiling. Cloud likes old-fashioned boats. Roxas' eyes finding first the model of a schooner, perched on a long hallway table, and then a large painting depicting a ship being tossed around on a stormy sea.

Soon their footsteps went mute as they sank into plush gold and black carpeting, which trailed all the way up a grand staircase tucked against the wall to his left. To the right was an open living room area with tall, sliding wooden doors. Inside, a fireplace played the role of centerpiece. The walls are lined with shelves decorated with colorful glass knickknacks and more boats. Tall floor candelabrums with fancy flat bowls accented the space. The lamp especially gave the room a very "look but don't touch" feel. They all follow him down a long hallway to a set of stairs on the right.

"Jeez, this place is huge. How do you memorize where to go?" Luxord asks.

"I had a lot of time on my hands. My father rarely let me leave the house." Roxas answers.

They climb up the stairs, the fingers of Roxas' hand sliding along the mahogany banister. After another short, silent spurt of stairs, they reach the second floor landing, which gave way to a cloister of rooms. But this would not be the stop. Roxas traipsed the men higher yet. Here the carpet ends, and they tromp on naked wood, the sound echoing through the house. They reached yet another tiny landing, a window stamped into the wall to his left. Zack quirks an eyebrow at the view through this tiny portal one that showed him little more than the detail of a skeletal trees.

They rounded one final corner. With an internal groan, the men see that here, the next staircase, set slightly apart, seemed to slant more steeply and grow even more narrow, the individual steps themselves somehow thicker and taller. This staircase reached up toward a single narrow door. The burn in their thighs intensified as they climbed again.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Roxas steps over the threshold into his study. Shadows gathered in pockets despite the room's two windows, while above them, the ceiling pitches and slants upward like the roof of a tent. A time-eaten mauve color wrapped the walls. Large purple curtains snap and stir in the breeze. Outside the window, a tangled outline of dark brown and green tree limbs scratched at a churning backdrop of ominous gray-purple twilight.

Roxas stands beneath a chandelier with candles suspended overhead. Their flame shape sputtered, trying to stay lit. A chain suspended the fixture from a hook in the ceiling. There was a tiny crawlspace that contained small glass vials, each a different color and shape. They stood gathered together like potion bottles in a sorcerer's forgotten cabinet. Instead of magical elixirs, though, each little vial held an assortment of dried flowers.

Centered in a pool of yellow light, he could see a plush purple chair. Bookshelves stuffed with dust-caked tomes lined the walls, and on a nearby table sat an old-fashioned oil lamp. Dimly lit, it was a partial source of the overlay of yellow light. The other contributor was the bed of fading embers glowing low within the enormous fireplace in front of the purple chair.

And the edge of one black boot.

He looks at the hand that rested on the velvet-covered armrest. A familiar hand gripped it with curled fingers.

Saix walks in first, holding up a hand to stop the entourage. He approaches Cloud. And inside are the other guild members. Larxene. Cid. Seifer One and Two. Terra. Leon.

"We have returned with the men, sir." Saix informs.

"What? Did you not hear my orders?! I wanted them _dead_!" Cloud shouts, banging his hand against the arm.

Roxas can feel a tremble starting in his hands.

"I did understand sir. But Roxas wanted them brought back alive." Saix introduces.

"What?" Cloud jerks his head to Saix and then turns to face the group of men inside his study. Roxas swallows thickly as he takes two steps towards his father. Cloud looks over his shoulder. "You are all dismissed."

The guild masters file out and as they pass the crewmen, Larxene cat growls and winks at Axel. "Hey handsome." She says bumping him with her hip. While Axel shows disgust, Demyx and Ventus exchange looks of surprise.

As Roxas steps closer the flames seem to offer a form of detailed picture of his father. The one most defining detail is his eyes. They are shadowed and dark from days of no sleep, Roxas can tell. Did he ever sleep at all while he was gone? And his clothes; they're not their usual guild armor and weapons seem to be nowhere on him. Nothing but a pale brown tunic and cream trousers. He looks like a father of a middle class family and not a dark ruler of a thief's guild.

And Roxas. Roxas is dirt smeared, his hair is a misshapen mess, his uniform stained with blood and his cloak torn and battered. He's been though an adventure.

"Roxas." Cloud breathes. His face is placid as usual and undecipherable. Roxas swallows and exhales.

"Now I know what you're going to say, Dad. Why didn't I kill them?" Roxas starts. "I could've easily manipulated them into bringing me back home and slaughter them all in the end. I could've been home quicker, but it wasn't that simple."

Cloud starts to approach Roxas with carefully steps.

"Well, these men have done a lot for me, father. They could've easily treated me like a prisoner and it would've ended in bloodshed. But they treated me like a member of their crew and helped me when I was in my lowest state."

Cloud is a foot from Roxas, but Roxas doesn't take a single step back.

"And I decided that they've done more than enough to earn themselves a pardon and . . ." Roxas begins to stutter. "Oh, stop being so stoic, Dad. Go on! Shout, scream, s-slap me. Say something!"

Roxas flinches as Cloud raises his hand and places it against Roxas' cheek. Roxas' eyes are wide, eyebrows furrowed in fear, mouth slightly agape.

Cloud's eyes soften and glisten off from the fire. "I never believed in gods." He murmurs. "But I thank them, for bringing you home safe to me."

Roxas' eyes grow wider and they lubricate with tears. His lips quivers as they spill over and gasps when he feels his father's arm wrap around him. Roxas feels his father grip his shoulders and gently pull him towards his chest, but Roxas' spine remains ramrod straight. Cloud wraps his arms around Roxas and leans his face against his hair as he sniffles and smiles.

Tears blur Roxas' vision, and his spine slowly curves towards his father until he presses his forehead against Cloud's shoulder.

And Cloud _holds_ him.

Then a sound of a scuffle reaches Roxas' ears. He pulls away and turns to see more men in black cloaks ushering Axel and the crew out.

"Roxas?" Ventus cries in panic.

"No, wait!" Roxas' voice comes out soft from the shock.

"Roxas?!" Ventus cries.

"No wait what are you doing?!"

Roxas goes to reach for Ventus with one hand, but Cloud catches Roxas' other wrist. "It's alright son. I'm just having them taken down to the dungeon for now."

"But father-!"

"They'll be fine, for now." Cloud calmly coos. "I know there's so much we need to exchange and that you've been through a lot. But I did hear what you said. And I will . . . consider it. But for now, you're home. And that's the end of it."

Roxas lowers his head. "I suppose."

"Now," Cloud brushes his knuckles against Roxas' jaw line. "How about we get you a bath. You smell revolting."


	31. Chapter 30

The dungeon is a dank, smelly pit carved out of the foundation of Cloud's compound. Individual cells are simply hollowed-out husks within the stone. The walls are slimy with moisture, iron bars block the doorways, and a few half-hearted troches burn along the aisle between cells. The entire facility itself was made of stone. The cells were basically cut into the stone; they looked at least ten feet deep and fifteen feet wide. The stench of smoke and mold assaults Axel's senses. Tripods of torches on pure ebony brackets illuminate the prison; placed between each cell, the entire compound glows a pale orange and yellow.

Axel and the men are dragged past five cells; the guards tossing the men two by one in each until they reach the one set aside for Axel. Looking back, Axel watches as Xigbar and Luxord are tossed first on the left, the Marluxia and Vexen; two cloaked men following into each afterwards. There's still no sign of Ventus, though Axel knows he was brought down with them. Two of the cells Axel passes are empty. One holds a gaunt man in filthy clothing huddled on a thin straw pallet. One holds a younger man shackled to the back wall. One cell down from Axel's holds a young pregnant woman wrapped in a coarse brown blanket. She doesn't look at Axel. Zack and Demyx are tossed in the cell right across from his.

After pulling him into his cell, the cloaked men fasten heavy iron cuffs around his wrists, and takes his sword, the dagger in his left boot, and his pistol. While one guard pats him down for additional blades, the other yanks on the heavy rusted chains attached to the cuffs at Axel's wrists, testing them for weakness. The chains loop through iron circles welded onto the back wall of the cell and restrict Axel's ability to go more than halfway towards the doorway. Axel doesn't try to fight his way out, assuming the men are probably not as skilled as Roxas, but enough to render Axel helpless and bleeding within a minute.

Satisfied he's weaponless, the guards take Axel's clothing, tossing them just out of his reach, and replacing them with a simple pair of ragged trousers; leaving Axel's upper torso at the mercy of the dungeon's chill. They laugh as they slam Axel's cage door shut and leave.

A few strong pulls assure Axel his chains aren't coming out of the wall without help. Axel's cell is a thin, water-stained pallet lying on the stone floor, and a half-rotted wooden bucket shoved into the corner closer to him. The shackles bite into Axel's wrists as he stands and slowly paces the back wall, feeling for drafts.

He imagines the men dragging Ventus through the callas and to an extravagant bedroom. Cloud won't do anything since he looks like Roxas, but the other men . . . could they see him as a possible . . . relief. Axel scratches his nails along the stone at the thought of Ventus' cry for him as the men assault him. Tears streaming down Ventus' face and cries of pain erupting from his lips. Axel growls. _No_.

Axel can't panic. The worst thing that can happen to him now is that he get executed. He leans the back of his head against the bars and laughs. That is the worst thing he can imagine. His laugh turns into a sob.

If he refuses to give up now, it will look brave to whoever watches him from the blackness of the prison, but sometimes it isn't fighting that's brave, it's facing the death you know is coming.

"Axel." he hears a whisper. Axel looks over to find Demyx up at the door of his cell, Zack sitting against the wall. Axel assumes the rest of the crew don't have chains, only him because he's the captain. "Are you okay?"

"Define okay." Axel mumbles through a laugh.

"Tell me you're ready have a plan to escape." Demyx nearly pleads.

"I can't think of anything while I don't know where Ventus is." Axel says. "And besides, they took my weapons and everything."

"Look, I'm sure Ventus is fine." Demyx assures.

"Demyx, we are in the lair of the dragon now. We can't' assume anything."

"Axel, he's smart."

"But he's so young."

"He looks like Roxas, you don't think they'll find that strange?"

"You don't think they'll find it as a form, entertainment to watch him scream and cry and beg for mercy? Roxas has built up enough shit here for the men to want to beat the shit out of him but never can!" Axel shouts. "Ventus could be their 'release'."

"You're being paranoid." Demyx states.

"I'm being realistic." Axel defends.

"You can't focus on the negatives Axel," Zack interjects. "You need to focus on getting us out of here."

"I'll focus once I know Ventus is safe."

"So you're just going to sit there and do nothing?" Demyx argues.

"It's the only thing that could keep us alive. Just trust me on this." Axel says.

Demyx looks over to Zack, who merely shrugs his shoulders. Then looking back and Axel, now seated on the floor of the back of his cell. Axel leans his head against the wall and remembers his promise to Roxas. To trust and have faith in him that he will find a way to save them all.

Heavy footsteps sound at the main entrance, and everyone looks up to see two guards, blazing torches in hand, precede Ventus into the miserable space. The lay no hands on Ventus, but his wrist are bound. He seems unarmed, but petrified. Axel feels a small spark of hope ignite in his chest as he sees them leading Ventus towards the back of the room. One guard opens the door to Axel's cell, Axel doing his best to remain neutral while the other removes Ventus' shackles and usher him into the cell. Ventus looks up and sees Axel' hair in the darkness and runs towards him. Axel smiles a little as Ventus wraps his arms around Axel's neck and stifles a sob. The men slam the door and proceed to leave. Once they hear the bang of the door, Axel embraces Ventus fully and begins to examine him for signs of assault.

"I'm fine, Axel." Ventus sniffles.

"What did they do to you?" Axel asks.

"They just . . . took me to a room, somewhere in the mansion, but then Cloud came up behind them, glared at me and ordered I be taken to the dungeon. I guess my doppelganger skills doesn't work on him." Ventus explains.

"That's pretty boring if he isn't even the slightest bit weirder out that you're an exact replica of his son." Demyx chimes from across the hall.

Ventus shrugs. "I don't know."

"Well, at east you're safe." Axel says as he strokes Ventus' hair.

"I would assume they would've at least made you a house servant rather than leaving you down here." Demyx adds.

"Why would I get 'promoted' to a housemaid just for my looks?" Ventus annoyingly asks.

"Demyx shrugs. "You never I know, just thinking out loud."

Axel moves his wrist to pet Ventus' head again, the chains banging against his him. Ventus looks and gives a dejected expression. Axel softly smiles back. "They're not too tight."

Ventus shifts and settles down next to Axel.

"I really do hope you have a plan." Zack calls from the back of his cell.

"I do."

Soaking in the hot water, his legs stretched out in front, Roxas inhaled the freshening scent of cucumber melon. One woman scrubs his feet with a loofah sponge, massaging away knots and tension. She lathered on a lotion that at first felt heated, but slowly grew warm as she scrubbed.

The tub's deep, with three steps to the bottom. Another staff member has poured in some kind of oil as well, and Roxas sits up to his neck in suds.

Roxas weakly smiles.

Inside the bathroom was a huge window with cross-hatched X's overlooking the mountains beyond the wall of the village. A steaming bath awaits Roxas. Someone added a small bag of dried flowers that perfumes the air.

His chin still lightly tingling from where she shaved away his five o'clock shadow, Roxas rests his head back on the pillow they placed around his neck. He's been with the staff for nearly an hour. They lotion his arms and legs, trim his nails, smoothing his hair and removing any unwanted knots. A man with combed-over brown hair, scrubs Roxas' arms and massages his back. Then washing his hair was a woman with her skin a delicate snow white and pale pink lips.

Roxas can't stop the smile on his lips. He's missed the luxury. His body feels so fresh and warm he could swear he was squeaky clean from head to toe. A young man took away his guild uniform and replaced it with a simple long-sleeved black tunic. They managed to wash the skintight pants he brought with them, Roxas personally ordering them to add them to the chair of which the shirt is draped over. He does know that they've seen his tattoo on his chest, the one man even complimented on it.

"Is there anything else you need sir?" the one woman asks as she refolds a towel.

"No, thank you." Roxas says.

Once the staff leaves, he sinks down into the water, beneath its skin, letting it block out the sounds around him. It is quiet here, the outside noise muffled and distorted by the water around him. Roxas pretends he's in a cocoon, asleep, the world passing him by

Roxas sighs and presses his palms to the sides of the tub, careful not to lose his footing. Pushing up, he nearly slips from the oils, but gains his footing and takes the three steps out of the tub. He grabs a towel and pats himself dry, rubbing his hair and chest. Roxas gazes at the flame tattoo he has and sighs. A small piece of regret buds inside him, but he's still more excited to have it still.

As he pulls on his clothes, he feels a little nervous at how the hemline of the shirt drops low enough to reveal the tips of the flames. Roxas adjusts the shirt and pulls on his leather jacket, pulling the collar up to his ears. Once he slips into his boots and clasps his waepons, he exists the bathroom.

Walking down the hall with his hands in his pockets, Roxas keeps his gaze ahead as he make his way towards the dining hall, where his father as well as the other guild members have set up for dinner. He can feel the little side glances, the puckered skin between frowning brows, and the hushed whispers that carry across the halls like tiny daggers drawing blood. Roxas continues on until he passes two cloaked men standing guard at the doors. They bow their heads and Roxas nods in return.

Upon entering the hall, Roxas can see his father already sitting at the head of the table; the guildmasters spreading out from there. The thick gold-and-red chamber lay stretched before him. Thick velvet draperies spilled from tall windows, like motionless crimson waterfalls. The room was lit by hundreds of tiny black votive candles, and stands of black glass beads hung from the chandelier. Everyone has taken their seats at the enormous rectangular claw-foot table. It was dark wood, almost black, and there were intricate designs, like vines, carved into the legs. Huge black candles flickered in the center of the table. Their heads turn to Roxas, and eyebrows rise in surprise. Cloud turns his head last and his eyes widen ever so slightly and Roxas looks at him straight in the face.

"Welcome, son." He says. Cloud motions Roxas to one of the carved, straight-backed chairs with velvet cushions. It's made for someone taller than Roxas, so his toes rest on the ground as he sits next to his father.

The scent of cinnamon, freshly baked bread, and spiced meat seeped to her nose, causing his stomach to growl like that of a ravenous dog. The smell of perfume and wine mingled with the scent of the rich food. Draperies hung suspended from the vaulted ceilings. A warm fire crackling in the hearth.

The table is covered with an elaborate feast. It is set with silver and pearl-white plates, which were actually made of pearl for all Roxas knew; and is overflowing with food. A crown roast filet tied with rosemary, and exotic dishes he'd never seen. A while roast pig with an apple stuck in its mouth. A standing rib roast with little papered puffs on the top of each rib, sat next to a mangled-looking goose covered with chestnuts and creams, rolls and breads, collards and beets and spreads. Ocean creatures drizzled in sauces or begging to be dipped in spicy concoctions. Countless cheeses, beds, vegetables, waterfalls of wine and streams of sprites that flicker with fizz. At least twenty or more soups and a creamy pumpkin brew sprinkled with silver nuts and tiny black seeds.

"That's an interesting new look." Seifer Two says. Roxas looks up to him and finds him leaning one elbow on the table with a, smirk on his face.

"Thank you. It's only temporary until my uniform is clean." Roxas flatly replies.

He reaches for a plate of pasta and fills one corner of his plate. As the guildmasters pass around more of the food, the only sound is the clinking and clanking of the utensils against the plates.

"I was just telling the guildmasters about your experience, although I couldn't give them much details, so I was hoping where you stopped, all your experience." Cloud says once Roxas sets down a bowl of gravy.

"It was . . . unusual. I'm not even sure you'll believe half the stuff I saw." Roxas says as he takes a spoonful of rice. "I assume Xemnas send you a note."

"Yes he did." Cloud nods. "I was pleased to see you were making it okay."

"There's so much. I barely understand it myself. I don't even know where to start." Roxas says.

"Why don't you start with after you left Twilight Town?" Lexaeus suggests. Roxas looks up and sees him standing on his father's left hand side with his hands behind his back.

Roxas wanted to laugh because it sounded so logical. But there is nothing logical about it.

He starts about how he had busted from the barrel and slashed down nearly three crew members and then about getting trapped down below at first, his numerous attempts to rebel, including his situation of fighting in the nude. This earns several snickers from the guildmasters. Roxas stares nonchalantly at them, pride beaming as he feels his cheeks stay their normal temperature and not warming with embarrassment. He then tells them about battling an entire rival pirate ship and killing the captain, then discovering a new weapon. Roxas stands and moves his jacket to show the pistol in its holster.

"What is that?" Larxene asks.

"It's a gun." Roxas says. "Axel said that this particular kind is a . . . pistol."

A few guild members nod their heads and eye the weapon. Roxas sits back down and adjusts his shirt and jacket carefully. He has to make sure he doesn't seem too fidgety since it'll give away the idea that he has something to hide. And he's not ready to show his tattoo yet to his father, if he hasn't already found out from the housekeepers.

He continues on to tell about stopping in Destiny Isles.

"Destiny Isles." Cloud says. "Isn't that where Vanitas lives?"

Roxas feels his heart thrum but shows no signs of worry. He fists his hand underneath the table at the memory of how they had gotten in an argument of Cloud restricting their friendship.

"Yeah." Roxas answers. "I managed to pick up a case with him. Took out a couple of temple priests." Roxas smiles as his father laughs manically. "Also, there is something very, peculiar." Roxas hesitates to say.

"How so?" Leon asks.

Roxas looks up to him, making sure to make eye contact. "They are this, relatively 'new' assassination group, and yet their influence is already spreading wide."

"Elaborate." Cloud orders and Roxas looks to him, seeing the curious and stern expression on his face.

"Vanitas told me how they're a group of only female assassins, and they're very good."

"You've seen them?" Terra asks after a sip of red wine.

"Seen them, felt them, attacked by them." Roxas says.

"What happened?" Cloud asks.

Roxas sighs and licks his lips. "They attacked us later, in Hollow Bastion. And I lost." There's a moment of silence. "They ambushed me and Vanitas, while in Hollow Bastion and just completely obliterated us."

"But that's impossible." Cloud says.

"I failed, father. And it's not because of the ambush. I fought, but . . . father they are very good. I thought that they wanted to be allies, but they said they want nothing to do with us. They want to, destroy our organization. Something about how they need to have a _real_ organization rule the land. Their mockery of you was . . . infuriating. But it's more shameful that I couldn't defend your title. And for that, I unworthily apologize." Roxas bows his head and squeezes his eyes shut, preparing to feel his father's hand smack against his cheek.

There's a moment of silence and the tension builds as the guildmasters wait for Cloud to do something. Cloud sits with his fingers interlocked and elbows on the table in ponder. He then blinks slowly and inhales softly. "Raise your head, son." Roxas does and readies for the worst. "Now normally I would punish you for such pathetic failure, especially with all of your elite training with the greatest teachers I could find . . ." he starts. "And yet, this new threat these, Faceless assassins are a whole new territory we have not yet explored and I feel that they need to be taken care of."

"Father?"

"I'll send out my men to scour the town and see if they can rake in any more information on this new threat to our organization." Cloud says.

"I know of someone who could be of help." Roxas contributes.

"I might know who you're talking about."

"W-Wait, did you say _more_ information?"

Just as Roxas finishes, the double doors to the dining hall open and Roxas' attention is diverted. Then a chill runs through Roxas. He steps through the doors in a grey cloak with the hood down. His ember eyes glisten in the glow of flames and his ebony hair flutters from small drafts in the mansion.

Vanitas.

Roxas grips one of the utensils, but quickly drops it as he rises from his seat. Roxas is speechless. What is he doing? Why is he here? Even if it's for trying to give Roxas information about the Faceless, they could've just met with the lie that Vanitas was in town. Roxas tries to think, but while he does he doesn't realize what he's doing. His feet are moving towards him and his lips say his name; its' not a whisper, but a loud enough tone that the heads of the guildmasters follow him. Roxas is about ready to launch himself at Vanitas in an embrace when he stops from a small notion of Vanitas' finger. He skids to a stop and keeps his eyes on Vanitas. Anger and curiosity mix in Roxas' face as he tries to make sense of his friend being in his home.

"Vanitas." Roxas says.

"Hey Roxas." He replies. His eyes, calm to the point of emptiness, seems to stare straight through Roxas.

"Wh-What are you doing here?" Roxas asks, trying to control his sudden anger.

Vanitas can see this and swallows. "I came to give your father information on the Faceless."

Roxas understands. He's trying to word it so that he can translate information, hopefully without much giveaway. "Oh." Roxas replies.

Vanitas immediately starts to walk to Cloud. That's when Roxas feels Vanitas' hand, which still holds the evening's chill, slips against Roxas'. His breath catches in his throat. Roxas can feel Vanitas' skin, rough under the leather of his open-fingered gloves. In the tight desperate clench of their fingers are all the words Roxas won't be able to say. Then he moves on towards the table. Roxas follows, returning to his seat.

"Forgive me for my tardiness, sir." Vanitas apologizes.

"You're excused. Now what do you have for me?" Cloud says. He motions Vanitas ton sit next to Roxas.

As Vanitas sits, Roxas can't help but stare at his plate, winding the fork between his fingers and stirring around his pile of peas.

"About two hundred years ago the priests of a light god succeeded in a massive conversion of the brethren of a dark god. It was then that their presence in the city weakened, and their kind was banished from the city." Vanitas says.

Roxas perks his eyebrows, as if to mimic being interested, despite hearing the exact same words already.

"They fought bitterly, as you can imagine, and with heavy hearts. A score of priests repented, sneaking away from their god of light's temple and throwing themselves at the dark temple's doors in Traverse Town." Vanitas elucidates. "They tested their faith. Those that lived were admitted into the priesthood, but not entirely. The high priest at the time was a brilliant man named Ansem the Wise."

"So that's where that old bastard went!" Cid sparks slapping the table, stirring the tableware. "I just thought he up and died after he couldn't live the life of a thief."

Roxas looks up with furrowed brows. "Ansem the Wise was a thief? I thought he was just a priest."

"He had doings with our guild." Cloud interjects. "But we rejected him after he didn't met the obligational needs of his role for our organization."

"Ansem the Wise knew that to welcome the traitors back without penalty could weaken them. He also knew that their devotion could be of great use, but only if the traitor-priests were forever reminded of their failure." Vanitas says. He pulls out the large green book with gold foil glinting. Fine threads of ink curled upward and downward and chased one another around, spreading their way across the page like veins in fused with black poison. They connected and layered with one another, intertwining and weaving in and out to depict the curve of a delicate wrist, or to convey the motion of wind through the swells of gossamer veils. Cloud leans in to observe the writing. "So he wrapped them in cloth and ordered them to never reveal their skin until the end of their days. They slept separate from the rest, dined away from the rest, and eventually attended their own sermons."

Vanitas reaches into his pocket and pulls a folded sheet of paper. Roxas takes a delicate sip of his water.

It shows seven men and women, their bodies wrapped in black cloth. They hold daggers, staves, and swords in hands hidden by waves of shadow that roll of their bodies like smoke from fire. At their feet lie over twenty dead paladins.

"Impressive." says Leon.

"They are an active organization of highly trained assassins who carry out assassination contracts. For those who wish to utilize their deadly services, they simply visit their headquarters located in a not so friendly part of town; though they do not actively recruit Faceless. They are a punishment, not an honor. Rumor says they only have three now, women who let their sex control their actions. Their faith in their dark lord, however, remains strong. So they priests put them separate from them, let them live and operate outside the temple. For years they remained obedient, performing tasks to further the cause of their god."

"Thieves who follow gods are misguided. You follow your own rules." Seifer Two says.

"Simple false tales of thieves with honor." Larxene says. "Oaths rife with falsehoods and broken promises. Gods doesn't care about thieves, trials or anything having to do with guilds."

As Vanitas continues to explain the Faceless, Roxas doesn't pay much else attention. He tries to force a few more spoonfuls of food in his mouth, but overall he loses his appetite. But the only time Roxas really does pay attention is when his father forces him back into the conversation.

"Now, Roxas, perhaps you can explain to me why you have those marks on your neck?" Cloud says as he points to his own neck. Roxas goes rigid.

"Um," he brushes his hand over the scabbing bite mark on his neck. "I got attacked. But I don't know if you'll believe me if I told you."

"You speak to those who have framed even the holiest of men for murder." Lexaeus. "Nothing can seem more non-believable than that."

Roxas sighs. "Well, while on sea, we were attacked by . . . mermaids."

"Mermaids? I always assumed they were just a tale. A story to keep the young footpads in line." Leon encourages.

"He's making this all up." Seifer Two says.

Roxas slams his palms flat against the table. "You think I would seriously do this to myself?!" Roxas screams. "They were real! They are dangerous!"

"Roxas." Cloud calms. Roxas feels his heart smile as he can sense Cloud glaring at the Seifers. "Now we don't know what you saw, but perhaps you can describe it to us."

"I couldn't believe it myself, but it's true." Roxas starts. "We can into, uncharted waters, and one just swam up to the boat. They had a strange glow around them, and the one climbed up the boat."

"What did she look like?" Lexaeus asks.

The simplicity of the question surprises Roxas. He thinks about it for a moment, once again envisioning the woman who had appeared to him in the waters, luminous in swaths of white gossamer and tumbling veils. "She was . . . well, when I saw her next time she looked like you." All the guild members' eyes widen. "She was beautiful," Roxas admits. "And at first, that's all I could think when I saw her. She had white skin, like marble. And long, thick black hair. Tons if it." As he spoke, Roxas traces his fingers through the air around his own hair, his hands gliding down past his shoulders and, before he knew it, all the way to the floor. "She wore layers of white veils that wound down to her feet. And her eyes . . ." Roxas shakes his head. "They were black. Completely black."

Roxas glances up, realizing that he'd been lost in thought. Vanitas was scribbling onto the sheet of paper. He glances over and finds the rough sketch of what Roxas was describing. He didn't even know that Vanitas had artistic skills, so his surprise is genuine.

When he slides the paper towards Roxas, Roxas swallows quickly to open up his throat as it closed tightly at the sight. The mermaid was in mid-swim motion, the reflection of seaweed wafting in the ocean's rippling sunlight. Skulls and hollow-faced corpses sprawl across the bottom of the page and claw at the mermaid's tail, yet she smiles with pride as if proud she's mutilated so many men.

"Is this what you saw?" Vanitas asks.

Roxas numbly nods.

Vanitas turns his head to face the guild members. "Mermaids are actually a more common sight than myth. The reason why you're skeptical is because they live out in the deep seas of which only sailors can travel. I understand why this all seems, skeptical. But there are people who have stores and medicines for them."

"Medicines? What for?" Terra asks.

"Mermaids aren't what they're described in fairytales. They are dark creatures. A mermaid's bite has a deep poisonous venom that has the ability to hack into their victim's mind. It's specifically designed to scour into the part of the brain that holds fear."

"It's torturous." Roxas mumbles.

He tilts his head as the picture floats through his mind, drowning out his own thoughts as well as Vanitas' voice as he speak.

Roxas felt his skin prickle as a voice spoke within his head. The sound of it, crisp and resonant, as merciless as it was melodious, electrified the hairs on the back of his neck. A crawling sensation of being watched stole over him. He frowned as Vanitas' voice began to fade, ebbing away into a distant murmur, replaced by a faint ringing noise.

His focused snapped to the etching.

The woman's veils – they moved.

Roxas felt the blood drain from his face. He went still as, line by line, the etching began to animate itself. And yet he knew Vanitas wasn't seeing any of it because he just kept talking, his voice a dim murmur to Roxas' right. Roxas blinked deliberately once, then twice at the etching. But now the branches seemed to be moving too. Like clawed hands, they scraped and scratched soundlessly at the age. All the while, the ringing in his ear grew, loud enough to drown out Vanitas' voice entirely before converging into a multitude of unintelligible whispers. Whispers that seemed to be coming from the entanglement of hollow-faced creatures surrounding the swathed figure of the mermaid. Like a knot of interlacing serpents, they began to writhe, their skeletal limbs snagging in the tattered scraps of fluttering white veils.

Then the creature's eyes snapped open.

Two black pits bore into Roxas', causing his breath to catch in his throat.

The woman's lips parted. Her mouth opened wide, allowing a rushing sound to issue forth, like a hissing surge of wind through autumn trees. It grew louder as tendrils of ebony hair danced and whipped across the page like black smoke. In one great whoosh, the birds in the background of the image took flight from their perches.

The rasp of their hoarse caws and the flap of wings joined with the hissing whispers until it all rose into a hellish cacophony, converging with the woman's glass-shattering scream.

Roxas fumbled for the page, knocking Vanitas aside in his effort to grab it and crumple it shut. But it was much more slippery than he imagined, and it slid from his hands, tumbling between them. It twirled as it meets with the floor, and then it fell flat against the wood with a wisp, still face-up. Roxas scrambles backward, away from the table, and sends the chair crashing, knocking him and it both to the floor with a thump.

"Roxas?" Cloud calls.

Roxas clapped his hands over his hears but couldn't block out the monstrous screech emanating from the picture.

In the corner of his vision, he could see Cloud shouting at him.

Then Vanitas grabs the piece of paper and stuffs it into a random page of the book, then shuts the book with a sharp slam, squelching the piercing shriek at last.

An entire minute passed before anyone of them made a move.

Roxas feels a hand clamp his shoulder and he sharply gasps. Roxas starts to babble and scramble, but Vanitas turns his head to face him. "Roxas, Roxas look at me. Look at me. You're okay. You're okay, you're safe."

Roxas continues to gasp for breath but starts to calm as Vanitas holds one side of his face.

"You're safe." Vanitas coos.

"What . . . just happened?" Seifer Two asks in a small voice while Roxas removed quaking hands from his ears.

"It moved," Roxas said. "The picture. Did . . . did you see it?"

To Roxas' surprise, Leon and Terra shake their heads.

You didn't hear the . . . ?" But Roxas didn't bother finishing his question. It was already clear that none of them hadn't seen or heard what he had.

Roxas tries to steady himself, willing the thundering of his pulse to slow, willing his nerves to steady themselves and his increasingly tenuous grasp on reality to return.

_Reality_. The thought of what that word caused him to utter a short, sharp laugh because, by now, it had begun to lose it meaning.

Vanitas helps Roxas to his feet, but it's clear to see he's still shaking. His hands go to tuck some hair behind his ears, hands quaking.

"I'm, I'm sorry." says Roxas.

"Lexaeus, take Roxas to his room." Cloud orders.

"Yes sir." Lexaeus rounds the table and goes over to Roxas who gratefully let shim escort him out of the room.

Vanitas stays behind and watches after the doors have closed.

"What was that all about?" Larxene coldly asks.

"The venom was in his system for about, three days. As I was told by the captain." Vanitas says. "It created horrific nightmares that Roxas refused to talk about, but whatever horrors you can imagine, it was worse. Most likely he has some form of post trauma."

"What?" Cloud questions.

"People with post trauma can relive the ordeal through thoughts and memories of the trauma. These may include flashbacks, hallucinations, and nightmares. They also may feel great distress when certain things remind them of the trauma, such as the picture of the mermaid." Vanitas explains.

"Will he be alright?" Cloud asks.

"I can't say for sure, sir. I mean, this isn't some kind of, sickness that will go way. It's not like the flu or the common cold. It sticks with him." Vanitas explains.

Cloud stares blankly at the table, his unfinished plate of food still in front of him. "Those goddamn pirates."

". . . Sir?" Vanitas speaks.

"If it weren't for them . . . if it weren't for _him_ . . ."

"Master Cloud?" Lexaeus asks.

"They . . . they did this to him! They caused this!"

"Cloud it was the mermaids -" Leon starts.

Cloud slams his fist into the table. "Those goddamn pirates ruined my son!"

"He's fine, sir." Lexaeus speaks.

"Don't you understand?! He's not himself anymore! And it's they're fault." Cloud angrily scowls.

"Sir, the venom is poisonous. Without proper care, the victim could perish." Vanitas says.

"They saved him."

"They only did so that they could use him for reward. For that, fake, reward my son promised." Cloud shouts. His voice echoes harshly around the room, a few of the guild members wincing at the sharpness. He shakes his head. "They will pay for what they've done. Everyone's dismissed!"

The guild members disperse and Vanitas stays behind for a moment, before Terra takes his arm and motions him out. Vanitas leaves but stands off to the side of the hall and waits.

"Lexaeus, get Saix." he hears. "I want him to do research on the crew and his captain, and I want _all_ of the details. I want to know everything, from his birthdate to a scar he has on his left ass cheek!"

"Yes, sir. Right away." Lexaeus obeys.

Vanitas feels his body tense, and suddenly a hand reaches around and grabs Vanitas by the neck. He gasps and instinctively reaches up to claw at the hand on his collar. He's yanked around the doorframe and pinned against the wall, his head banging against a painting suspended on the wall. Vanitas opens his eyes and sees Cloud's furious and deadly gaze. Vanitas swallows but feels it catch in his throat from Cloud' grip.

"I thought I had dismissed you." Cloud darkly says.

"My apologies sir." Vanitas croaks. "I just wanted to know -"

"_I_ give the orders, _you're_ supposed to follow!" Cloud screams, slamming Vanitas' head against the wall. Vanitas grits his teeth and hisses, trying to conserve his breath as Cloud's hand tightens. Vanitas tries to inhale, but he can only croak. Black spots begin to swarm around his vision, the world becoming muted. "Now listen."

Vanitas can't, the world is getting blurry. A harsh hand smack across Vanitas' face, and the hand loosens only slightly.

"I said listen!" Cloud screams. "Don't pass out on me." He cruelly mocks with a smile.  
I will have Lexaeus take care of Roxas. But I also want you to as well. But once you're finished." Cloud says.

_Finished with what_?

Cloud watches as Vanitas' eyes become bloodshot and pink, his face and throat are becoming a mixture of redness and paleness. His eyes are starting to bug out and Cloud only grins.

Vanitas tries to claws at Cloud's hands, but they have no effect.

Cloud leans in close.

"Once you're done, you will go to my son, and act like nothing has happened. I need to know more of what has happened. Even if you can't, don't fret. I will get it myself. Just _keep him busy_."

Vanitas can't reply as his eyes are seeming to widen on their own, then the world fades and muffles. The black spots swarm to the center of his vision like insects. Blinking sends searing pains through his eyes and then they roll back until their whiteness shows. Still Cloud grips and even lifts Vanitas off the ground by a few inches. His lips are becoming slightly blue as his mouth remains slightly agape. His chest heaves and he makes soft croaking noises.

Then Vanitas' eyes flutter shut.


	32. Chapter 31

Roxas leans against the wall to the open training room, holding back a wince of pain. His shoulder throbs where Lexaeus struck him. Now that he's home, Cloud's made him spend hours training. Lexaeus is his trainer.

"If you'd stop making mistakes, you wouldn't hurt so much," Lexaeus says, pacing before him. "To your feet. It's time to dance."

The first time Roxas trained with Lexaeus was he was responsible to teach Roxas how to utilize the Limit Break and survive battle with critical injuries. He first struck Roxas harshly in the face before the training session to put him on his "last legs". Roxas then had to battle Lexaeus and correctly execute his Limit. When Roxas defeated Lexaeus, Lexaeus was satisfied.

Roxas pushes himself off the wall, knowing Lexaeus would continue whether he was ready or not. For hours they danced, blunted practice swords whirling and clanging as they parry, riposte, and block. Of all Roxas' teachers of combat, Lexaeus is by far the best, as well as the most enjoyable to be with. He laughs, he jokes, he says things about women that make Roxas' stomach hurt from laughing. When it comes to swordplay, though, he takes the dance seriously. The joy fades from his eyes like a fire buried in dirt. After an error, he'd explain to Roxas what he'd done wrong. Should he react too slowly, or too foolishly, that'd be corrected as well. Sometimes Lexaeus explains in great detail what to do, and when. Most often, though, he smacks Roxas with his dagger and lets the pain do the teaching.

This practice is particularly brutal. Lexaeus wanted to hone Roxas' dodging ability. Denying his the ability to use his sword in defense, or to strike back, Lexaeus swings and stabs with incredible speed. The problem is that Roxas' initial reaction is always to block or parry, not dodge. Other teachers might have taken away Roxas' sword, but Lexaeus would have none of it.

"You'll learn to control your instincts, otherwise they'll control you," Lexaeus says. Again and again the sword cracks against Roxas' shoulders, his head, and his hands. Whenever Roxas tries to raise his sword, Lexaeus' other blade would shoot out, parry it away, and then slap Roxas across the face.

At last, when both were exhausted and dripping with sweat, Lexaeus called the training done.

"You're getting better," Lexaeus says. "I know it's tempting to show off how good you are at positioning your blades, but sometimes, especially with stronger opponents, it's best to just get out of the way. Once you're reacting quicker, we'll work on integrating those dodges into your normal defensive patterns."

And with that, Roxas is dismissed. His teacher gone, he rubs his shoulder, a part of him wanting to massage it. But massages meant pain, and pain meant failure, at least when it comes to training with Lexaeus. After all, if he would just dodge like he was supposed to, he wouldn't have a bruise on him. So Roxas puts it out of his mind as best he can, wipes more sweat from his face onto his sleeve, and walks out of the training room.

As he starts to heads towards the kitchen for water, he quickly pulls on his jacket and adjusts the collar of his shirt to cover his tattoo. He makes it to the kitchen while no other guild member is around, and finding his hunting bag draped over a bar chair, opens the cabinets and stuffs it with as much unnoticeable food as he can. Roxas slings it over his shoulder, quick to adjust the strap and his shirt. He then runs down to a supply closet and pulls out a few quilted sheets, stuffing them inside as well. Making his way down to the cellar, Roxas does his best to make it seem like he's meant to be down there. When Roxas approaches, he stuffs his hands in his pockets and makes sure to look stern. The guard lets him in without question.

* * *

At least he had a blanket. For that, Axel is grateful. The cells underneath the mansion hadn't been built with comfort in mind, and it's been ages since the light of the sun touched the grey stone. Soaked in moisture that dripped form the ceiling and unable to avoid the constant, chilling blow of air, many prisoners have broken down in desperate clamoring for warmth.

Axel had given the blanket to Ventus, but still no matter how tightly he wraps it around his body, Ventus always feels a draft sneaking up his leg or down the small of his back. Ventus constantly sees Axel sitting in the corner shivering and rubbing his arms, but no matter how much Ventus persuades Axel refuses to take the blanket. So Ventus pulls the blanket tighter, scrunching his knees against his chest to preserve every shred of warmth.

The sound of the main door catches all the prisoners' attention. All their heads turn on attention and shouts immediately erupt from the cells. They're a mixture of pleas and shouts of really insulting things. Axel looks across to Demyx who shrugs his shoulders, both assuming it's Cloud. But Axel's heart lifts when he sees a black leather jacket gleaming in the torchlight.

Roxas steps up to their cells, his eyes wide with hurt and regret. "Roxas." Axel breathes as he scrambles up. He wants to run up to the boy, embrace him, hug him, kiss him, but alas the chains keep Axel from going more than halfway. Roxas walks up to the cell door and grasps the bars. Ventus scampers up and his hands overlap Roxas and his breathing sounds as if he's about to cry. Roxas' eyes lower to deep sorrow as he rubs Ventus' hands. No doubt they're so much colder than Roxas'. Roxas looks over to Axel and he lets a gasp escape his lips.

Still the prisoners shout and bang their doors or rattle their chains. Roxas, most likely given the keys by the guard, opens the cell door. He first kneels and embraces Ventus' shivering form. Ventus tries to suppress a sob, but a part of it still manages to escape. Roxas strokes the boy's head and presses his cheek to the side of Ventus' head. Once he wipes away a stray tear Ventus missed, he gets up and hurries to the back wall. Axel's feet slip on the moistened stone as he tries to get up. His limbs have grown rather limp form the cold, and though his legs seemed to have grown used to the bitter, they still feel stiff. Roxas comes up and drops to his knees, his warmth draping around Axel, almost like an invisible blanket. Axel nearly sighs from the sudden warmth it pervades from Roxas' body.

Roxas' holds Axel's head and his lip quivers, but his eyes are hard with determination. Axel gives a small smile. He looks cleaner than before; fresh even like a daisy in the summer. His hair seemingly rather groomed and grease free. Roxas presses their foreheads together.

"I'm so sorry." Roxas whispers.

"Not to be sounding, impatient, but any progress?" Axel asks.

"I'm working on it." Roxas assures. "How've you and the men been?"

"We're holding on." Axel assures.

"Here." Roxas brings forward his hunting bag and pulls out a thick, fluffy blanket and drapes it over Axel's legs. Axel sighs and tries to adjust his legs, but Roxas tucks the blanket under Axel's legs. He then turns to Ventus who stares at him wide-eyed and gazes at Roxas as if he is a god.

Roxas pulls out another blanket and drapes it around Ventus' shoulders. Ventus laughs but still it's mixed with a sob. Then Roxas actually leans in and kisses Ventus' head and rubs his hair. Ventus snuggles down and makes himself a cocoon while Roxas goes back to Axel and pulls out his dagger.

"Hold still." He orders.

Axel does, and Roxas' hands are a blur as they swipe about Axel's body and then the clicking of metal sounds and Axel's cuffs clang to the floor. Axel rubs his wrists, the metal of the cuffs have chaffed his skin, starting to form scabs. Before Axel could stop he wraps his arms around Roxas and plants his lips on the blonde's. Roxas lets him, but quickly pulls away. Axel would argue, but with Ventus in the room, he holds his tongue.

"Uh, hate to interrupt, but we're part of the crew too." Demyx calls from across the aisle.

Roxas chuckles and rubs Axel's chin before getting up and going over to the other cells with the men of the crew. He first sets up a small meal for Axel and Ventus – a bowl of chicken meat, a couple apples and two flasks filled with warm tea.

Making his rounds to the men, Roxas drapes them with blankets and gives them packets of small foods. By the time he sits at the bench at the end of the corridor between Demyx and Axel's cells, the crewmen all have warmer blankets and better food. Other prisoners still shout to Roxas as to why they get special treatment, though most of them are now trying to get on Roxas' good side and try to befriend him for similar conduct. Demyx can't help but smile mischievously and savor his meal. Axel has moved to the front of the cell, of which Roxas has closed all to avoid suspicion.

"I'm so sorry guys. I don't mean to take too long, but guess what . . . Vanitas is here." Roxas says.

"What?! How?" Ventus exclaims as he takes a sip form the flask.

Roxas shrugs his shoulder. "I don't know. I just found out that he's only been here so far to report to my father about the Faceless."

"Huh, do you think he's a traitor?"Axel asks.

"No, I mean I can't really be mad at him, because I did suggest to him to join us. I just with it was under better circumstances." Roxas admits.

"Did anything unusual happen?" Demyx asks. "Like, did he seem different?"

"No, just more, cautious." Roxas answers. "Guess meeting my father in person is completely different than in his head."

"So, if I can ask, what's happened so far?" Ventus questions.

"I just got cleaned up and I went and had dinner with my father and the other guildmasters." Roxas explains. "I told them about our travels, and even talked about the mermaids, of which they seemed to believe."

"What about the sea monster?" Zack asks.

"No, I don't think I got to that yet, I got so caught up in the whole mermaid episode that I didn't get to it."

"How are you doing with that, by the way?" Axel asks.

"I thought I was doing fine, until Vanitas decided to draw a picture of the creature and show it to me. I mean he did it so that the guildmasters and my father could see, but still it, freaked me out. Like I thought it was moving."

"What?"

"It looked like it was moving, and I then freaked out and made a complete idiot of myself, in front of my father. And I also managed to talk about the Faceless." Roxas continues.

"And . . . ?"

"And, it was, embarrassing to say the least, but to my surprise, he seemed more, intrigued to take them down rather than rant to me about how I had mistimed my somersault dive and threw off my reverse tumble."

"I don't know what you're saying but it sounds cool." says Demyx as he takes a bite of his apple.

Roxas chuckles, and then a loud bang at the end of the corridor makes him go rigid. No doubt that the guards are coming and going; possibly switching shifts. Roxas bits the inside of his lip and looks back around at the men. Seemingly satisfied that they're good for now, Roxas gets up and dusts himself off.

"I'd better go." Roxas says. He walks over to Axel's cell, taking his fingers in his own and giving him a quick kiss. "I'll try and bring you guys something tomorrow morning."

"Don't strain yourself." Axel insists. "You don't want to arouse suspicion."

"Look who you're talking to." Roxas slyly smiles with a wink. "And listen, if anyone comes down here and asks where you got this, say it's from me."

"But -"

"Just say it. Trust me." Roxas insists.

Axel folds his lips in. "I do. Okay." He submits.

He kisses Roxas on the lips and Roxas strokes Ventus' cheek before leaving the dungeon, giving it a reassuring slam behind him for effect.

Axel can't help but smile as he shifts towards the back of the cell with his new blanket and Ventus snuggling down next to him. So far, Roxas is keeping his promise. He hasn't let Axel down yet. And as they wrap the blankets around them, Axel tries to keep his hopes high.

Roxas comes up and adjusts his jacket and heads upstairs. Not knowing what else to do, he decides to head for the library since it's most likely Vanitas is in counsel with his father. But then as he mounts the steps up to the third floor, he hears his name called and turns to find Leon approaching. Once he reaches Roxas, he bows his head.

"Master Roxas."

"Leon."

"You're needed in the infirmary."

Roxas gives a perplexed expression. "For what? Is something wrong?"

"I'm just needed to escort you sir."

Roxas feels a strange twang in his stomach. He knows this mansion like the back of his hand. Why would he need an escort down to the infirmary? Even if Roxas got the information out of Leon, it still wouldn't answer why he needs someone there with him.

Still, nonetheless, he nods and takes the lead, Leon following behind him.

* * *

Hours after Roxas departs, when it's around early evening by Axel's account on the sky color, the door of the dungeon suddenly opens, heavy footsteps sounding at the main entrance. Everyone looks up and sees two cloaked guards, dying torches in hand, standing on either side of Cloud as he steps into the miserable place.

Axel moves closer to the bucket in his cell, putting enough space between him and the door of his cell that he'll have to come all the way inside if he wants to harm Axel. He keeps Ventus close. Unlike with Roxas, the men are silent as the stone cells and cower in corners like scared dogs in a shelter. Cloud's laugh is an ugly thing filling up the space between them as he crosses the aisles and gestures for the guards to open the door to Axel's cell.

Cloud steps into the cell. The flickering torchlight illuminates his cheekbones, throwing the rest of his face into shadow.

"Well, this is quite an interesting greeting." Cloud flexes his right hand into a fist. The light slides along the golden circle of his ring, glowing within the olive-sized red stone and highlighting the wicked ridge of the raised talon through its center. "Where did you get those things?"

"Roxas." Axel replies.

Axel braces himself, Ventus barely moving now.

Cloud stares at them and nods his head, his lips folded in. "Now, I must say, I was intrigued to see how you managed to have a clone of my son." Cloud speaks. Ventus goes rigid and Axel stares neutral at Cloud as he stands with his hands behind his back.

"Nice to know you cared, but I'm afraid they're done selling them on the market." Axel cruelly jokes.

"Hmph, amusing."

"I thought so."

"But I'm not here to talk about your pathetic little imposter." Cloud snarls. He raises his foot and steps in between Axel and Ventus, forcefully wedging them apart. His boot scrapes against the side of Ventus' face and then he takes his other leg and shoves Ventus aside, his foot ramming into his side, causing the air to leave Ventus' lungs.

Axel tries not to show too much emotion because he knows what Cloud is doing. He's trying to find out what makes Axel tick and see what he can use against him should there be more torture. Hopefully Ventus can understand. Ventus curls up on his side, shrinking and wheezing with tears in his eyes.

"I'm here to talk about my son." Cloud says.

"What is there to know? You raised him didn't you?" Axel smacks.

Cloud snarls and looks ready to attack, but doesn't; and Axel realizes it's probably not the smartest thing to taunt him, but Axel wants so badly to rebel against Cloud's such rigid system that amount will do.

"What did you do to him?" Cloud asks.

"I'm going to need more detail."

"You should be able to think about it. Unless all that salty sea air has dried up whatever sense you had." Cloud counters.

Axel rolls his eyes. Cloud's posture becomes more rigid. "After he got bit by the mermaid, we took care of him. We gave him medicine and treated his wounds." Axel starts. "Still, he suffered for three days until the venom was out of his system. He tossed and turned and thrashed from the nightmares, but there was nothing we could do but let him ride it out. You know, you should be grateful. We saved your son."

"Only for your own benefit." Cloud interjects.

"I could've cared less about what the hell happened to him." Axel says. He can't make it seem like he has feelings for Roxas in front of Cloud, especially if he were to find out about their, relationship. "Whether I got an award or not, I didn't have to save him had I known he was your son."

"All the more reason as to why you did." Cloud states.

"Not anymore. That little shit isn't worth all this." Axel snarls.

Cloud narrows his eyebrows and snarls. "I want to know what you _did_ to him."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what it means."

"No I don't."

"He is not the boy that I remember. He has issues and problems that I want fixed! He's going to be something great and he can't have disadvantages."

"Is that how you see it?" Axel scoffs in disgust. He shakes his head. "You're son is suffering from a disorder, and you're just brushing it off as something that we can cure?"

"He's never had it before! And I can guarantee you that that boy has seen worse! Now what . . . did . . . you . . . do?"

"We didn't do anything! He's suffering from nightmares that we can't fix even after the venom has subsided. We did what we could, with what we had and now, maybe instead of insisting there's something wrong with your 'perfect child' maybe you should try and help him!" Axel yells.

"I will. And he will be my perfect heir once more. But until then, however long it takes, you will suffer as well for what you did to my son."

"How is him getting bitten by a mermaid our fault?! You should know, he fought them off. Most men who encounter them are dead goners before they even realize whom they're staring at. But Roxas, Roxas fought tem off. So congratulations, he can't afford to feel anything. He's a sociopath just like you."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Cloud says as he turns to one of the cloaked guards. "Get the man."

Axel feels panic bubble up in his throat as he watches the man nod and turns towards Demyx' cell. Axel can already hear Demyx starting to talk, but his words mean nothing. Watching hopelessly, Axel sees the guard take away Demyx' second blanket, and then his first one is ripped from his arms. Demyx claws at it frantically, screaming that it is his, his, and they couldn't take it from him. But they do, and Demyx is cold now, very cold. Not long after, the two guards walk in and grab Demyx by the arms. Demyx yells at them and demands that they let him go, pulling back digging his heels into the slippery stone.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Axel asks, his tone nervous now.

Cloud doesn't respond, but keeps his eyes on Demyx and the guards as if they're the most important thing in there world right now. Cloud turns, and hearing this, his lips contort into a hideous parody of mirth.

"I may not be able to reverse what you did to my son, but I can make you pay for it."

"I told you it wasn't my fault!"

Cloud looks to him and smiles. "Last time you said it wasn't our, fault. Now you use 'my'. It does astound me how so willingly you are to sacrifice yourself for your men; of who may betray you, question you . . ."

Axel keeps his head lowered. "Loyalty." Axel mumbles.

Cloud turns to Axel. "Excuse me?"

"Loyalty." Axel repeats. "I'd give my life to them because I am their captain, and I am responsible for whatever happens to them. I know they are loyal to me and would do the same thing for me. And that's because I treat them like _humans_, and with _respect_!"

Cloud raises an eyebrow. The men half-drag, half-carry Demyx down the hall and out of the dungeon. The other crewmembers shout and bang on the doors calling to him. Then he's dragged behind the entrance door and they slam shut.

"I treat my men with respect and dignity. Not like some ploys or expendables for my own purposes." says Axel. "With you, it's no wonder why the men betray you, and only join you when they're desperate."

Cloud goes to lunge for Axel, but Axel ducks back. Swinging the chains up, he wraps them around Cloud's arm. One swift jerk and Axel flings Cloud onto the filthy floor of the cell. Cloud lands hard, rebounding quickly before Axel could drive his knee into Cloud's back. The guard outside are already on him.

They pull Axel away from Cloud, toss him to the ground, and attack. Axel swings the chains, brutally slashing one guard's face and knocking out the other's tooth. One draws his sword, but Axel ducks out of the way. Looping the chains around the sword's hilt as he goes, Axel yanks back hard. The sword goes skidding across the cell.

Two more cloaked men arrive, and Axel is fighting for dear life. Dodging blades, absorbing blows, and doing as much lethal damage as he can with the lengths of chains in his hands. Ventus is in the corner of the cell, watching it all unfold, shielding his eyes.

It's four against one, and Axel knows he can't keep it up much longer. He's hoping he won't have to.

Cloud screams at his guards to stop. They back away, bleeding and cursing.

Axel is bleeding and cursing too, but he holds his head high as Cloud approaches.

"Go ahead and kill me, if you can." Axel says, rattling the chains in his hands as if ready to go another round with the guards. "You've given me all the weapon I need."

Axel doesn't really want the chains, in fact he wants them out of cell, but he has to make it look like he does. Even if Cloud catches on – because it's a guarantee that he will, it's still ordeal that he removes any advance Axel has too ensure he is under grasp.

Axel rattles the chains as if he still has the energy to use them. Cloud gestures at the closest guard. "Get those things off him and remove the boy from the cell."

Axel's heart drops at the words of them having to remove Ventus; of who still cowers in the corner, but Axel is glad. He doesn't want Ventus involved in this. Ventus goes along willingly with the guard who escorts him out. Ventus manages to catch a glimpse of Zack who watches attentive at the activity across the aisle. They turn and the man forces Ventus to watch the ordeal, gripping Ventus' shoulders, he forces the boy to stand in place. Axel puts up a fight, makes it look like he means it, and it takes three of them to get the chains off of him. The instant he's free, Axel backs into a corner like he's been beaten as his own game.

Cloud laughs and waves at his least-injured guards. "Teach him a lesson. Just make sure you leave him alive."

Two guards advance, fists raised. Ventus urges to step forward, but the third guard holds him in place and forces him to watch. Axel parries the first punch and absorbs the second as it plows into his shoulder, but sees stars as one guard's booted foot slams into his rib cage and sends Axel sprawling. Pain flares to life within Axel and it's all Axel can do to curl up in a ball and endure as the guards use Axel as their punching bag. Ventus starts to scream and hurls himself forward, struggling to get free from the guard holding him in place. He tries to beat at the meaty hands that hold him to no avail.

Both have lost track of time when Cloud calls them off. Axel is bleeding from his nose and mouth, and his body feels like he's been run over by a wagon, and a rib on his right side feels like someone is skewering him with a lit torch every time he breathes.

Cloud strides over to Axel, grabs a handful of his hair, and wrenches Axel's face around to his. "You've lost your little game. And everyone you love will die because of it." he gestures to a guard, and he hears something of an inhale and then an exhale. Axel can't crane his neck to look because Cloud holds his hair in a viscous grip. But Ventus' screaming fills Axel with dread, like a thick back oil.

The guard steps closer, a large brown cigar in his hand. At the end of it, looking like the dirt-covered chewed finger of a homeless man, glows red-hot.

Axel twists away from Cloud, but he settles his knee into Axel's side, turning his aching rib into a breath-stealing howl of agony, and holds his face steady with both hands.

"I beat you." Cloud says. "And every time I or my son looks at you, we will both know it."

The guard presses the end of the cigar into the side of Axel's neck, like an ashtray and Axel screams. Ventus pleads and squeals in horror, trying desperately to peel himself away, but he can't move an inch. Tears stream down his cheeks and his nose is red with congestion.

The smell of scorched skin fills the air and Axel retches as brilliant spots dance in front of his eyes. Axel drags in a deep breath and tries to ride out the worst of the agony, but it refuses to abate.

Letting go of him, Cloud rises and says to the dungeon guard. "Water only. Don't bother offering this one any food. We won't need to keep him alive long enough to warrant it."

Leaving Axel huddled on the floor, burned and bleeding, Cloud leaves the cell, slamming the bars closed in his wake. He passes by Ventus – whose face is red and raw with tears – and stares. Ventus' breath hitches in his throat and swallows back a primal scream. Cloud raises an eyebrow, and looks to the guard holding Ventus.

"Keep them separated." He orders.

"No!" Ventus wails as the man grabs his arms and starts to haul him away from Axel's cell. "Axel!" he screams.

Axel looks up and winces, his eyes water as he sees Ventus struggling to free himself. But he can't move. So all he can do is move his lips mouthing, "I'm sorry." Ventus is dragged out of sight and further down the aisle. Zack flicks his eyes between Axel and Ventus as he's forcefully ushered down and then stuffed in a vacant cell.

Axel waits until he hears the footsteps fade. Until the door at the entrance closes. Until he's silently cursed every last word at Cloud in his mind.

Only when he's certain he's spent enough time looking defeated and broken that anyone watching him wouldn't question his need for warmth, does Axel slowly crawl across the floor.

Every inch is torture. Axel clenches his teeth and tells himself pain is just a state of mind. He can rise above it. Axel's body doesn't agree with the theory, so he forces himself to recite the duties and rules of a pirate to give himself something productive to focus on.

Axel is shaking by the time he reaches his destination, but furious triumph warms him from the inside as he lays his hands on the thing that makes inciting Cloud and his men to remove the chains and beat him nearly senseless almost worth it. The whole time he nearly forgot about it, but still it's a small victory over the guildmaster.

Through all the beating and burning, at least he forgot the blanket.

* * *

Roxas is down in the infirmary as Zexion performs the year-round checkup for all guildmembers. It wouldn't have been that big a deal if Roxas hadn't remembered that he had his checkup nearly four months ago for the upcoming winter season. Still, he sits on the padded bed and allows Zexion to place the diaphragm on his chest. A bandage wraps around his forearm from the shot that Zexion gave to evade the possible flu for the winter. Roxas just stares out the window at the starting-to-become bare branches. It feels like there's a lot of preparation going on for winter when autumn hasn't even arrived yet.

Zexion has seen Roxas' flame tattoo, but showed no reaction nor care for that matter.

"Okay. You should be good." Zexion says as he takes off the stethoscope and folds it up placing it on the tray of other medical equipment.

"What was that about?" Roxas asks. "I had my checkup months ago."

"Well there's this new sickness spreading and Cloud wants all the guild members vaccinated." Zexion says.

Something is wrong. That went too well, like it almost sounded practiced.

"What it's called?" Roxas asks.

"The Gloom." Zexion answers.

"Do they know what it's like?"

"They say it's a mixture of symptoms of the flu and diarrhea."

"Do they know where it is?"

"Amongst the poor."

The rapid fire questions would've continued if it weren't for Terra the guildmaster of the Wolves walks in donned in his dark brown cloak. Zexion looks to him and returns to scribbling results on a clipboard, his back to Roxas. Uneasiness fills Roxas' stomach.

"Master Roxas," he bows. "I'm instructed to escort you down to the library for your study session."

At least Roxas expected this. He nods and grabs his jacket before leaving the infirmary. He shrugs it on as he follows Terra down the halls. Roxas is used to having an escort, even around his own home, but it's still rather, odd to Roxas. But there's something about walking with Terra that seems comforting as he has a clam demeanor and somehow gentle nature for a guildmaster. Roxas follows Terra side by side down the halls and decides to trust Terra and follow him. As they walk, Roxas keeps his head low. Having Terra lead the way is actually a relief as it gives Roxas the permission to drift off in his thoughts.

They drift down halls, but suddenly they make a left instead of a right and Roxas perks his heads up in curiosity. Still he keeps his mouth shut and decides to see where he could possibly be leading him, despite knowing almost every inch of the mansion. Roxas keeps his hand on his gun just in case.

Roxas' is momentarily baffled as Terra guides him down the corridor. It was a tunnel-like corridor and it leads them straight out to the Rose Garden. A curtain of green vines hangs over the open archway in a spilling cascade. Flowers dot the vines, their heavy heads lolling sleepily amid waxy green foliage.

"Terra why are we -?"

But Roxas looks back and finds Terra already gone. Perplexed, Roxas looks back at the veil of green as it softly sways on a draft. Roxas is torn between going to the library or staying behind. Then Roxas realizes, Terra knows the mansion, or at least knows where to go. For other guild members, the library, the dining hall and the training room are the spots that all the guild leaders know since it's the most areas they meat. Terra wouldn't lead Roxas here just to make him late. It's because he wants to lead Roxas into a trap, or because there's something inside. Knowing that he can take on anyone, Roxas takes the plunge.

Parting the vines with one hand, he passes through the archway and into a circular room. Countless crimson buds climb the iron-gate perimeters, their interlacing boughs and vines thick enough to for a living wall between the interior of the room and whatever lay without.

The vines and flowers commandeered the domed ceiling as well, though the boys could detect the mesh of tree limbs and the hint of blue light through one of the thinner sections. Gazing upward, Roxas thought there must be thousands of the flowers, maybe even hundreds of thousands – every single bud the same deep bloodred hue. In addition to the climbing roses, long-stemmed roses grew along the base of the trellised wall, their blooms blending in with all the others.

Their overpowering fragrance, like the smell from a shattered bottle of perfume, filled their nostrils with every breath, making them light-headed. A carpet of ruby petals covers the circular marble floor, while several open archways line the curved wall, all of them leading out into what appeared to be rose-lined tunnels.

At the center of the room, stands a fountain. High above the brass statue's head and arcing veil, a blanket of roses twined with the decorative domed ceiling, the vines braided with the scrolling wrought-iron bars. A breeze enters through the gaps between flowers and metal, sending a cascade of petals raining down. The roses seem to watch them like thousands of spectators as they pass, their delicate heads bobbing in their wake.

Roxas has been in the rose garden before. When he was a child Roxas would wander the tunnels while Cloud was away on business, in meetings. He can remember Lexaeus playing hide and seek with him in the tunnels of the garden as a form of stealth training, but Roxas still to this day thinks he did it to try and give Roxas a small bit of a normal childhood and to have fun.

But still, what is there to see in the Rose Garden?

As if connected to his thoughts, a horrible scream penetrates the air. It reverberates through the space, rattling the flowers and tingling up Roxas' spine. It sounded familiar.

Roxas bolts, taking the path directly behind him, the walls of roses whizzing past. Panic rises within Roxas as he hurries back down the long vine-covered corridor, over the footprints, choosing his next direction at random, no longer certain from which way he'd come. The roses seemed to watch him like thousands of spectators as he passed, their delicate heads bobbing in Roxas' wake. There was no sign of anyone around the next corner, or even the next. As Roxas takes one passageway after another, he couldn't help but feel that he was winding his way deeper and deeper into the garden's maze.

The soles of his boots slap the marble floor, the sound muffled only slightly by the thin coating of petals that carpeted each passageway. Turning the corner, Roxas suddenly finds himself in another circular room identical to the first.

Roxas makes the turn. He hastens toward the end of the covered hall, through the opening, and into the largest clearing yet. And here, in the center of the room, stands the one thing he didn't expect to find in a place of flowers – a gallows.

The crowd is too thick to see, and Roxas feels his stomach twinge as he approaches. A few other guildmasters are present, along with members of each of the other guilds, including Roxas'. As Roxas walks up, like he senses Roxas' oncoming, a man turns around and his eyes widen. He's a lower ranked member so he steps to the side as Roxas maneuvers through. His motion triggers a chain reaction and soon the men of each guild are creating a straight path towards the gallows.

Roxas can see the main torture of his guild, a balding man with dark brown leather clothing and a cowl that normally covers his face is down around his shoulders. His clothing has splatters of blood on it.

At this point, Roxas' heart is beating so fast and fierce he hardly notices Larxene asking him why he's here. He only knows that whatever waits on the stage is meant for him. When he breaks through the crowd, he is right.

Demyx's hands are bound by a rope and he's strung up like a dead turkey as the rope is tied to the post where the hanging are supposed to take place. His clothes have been torn away, practically ripped as there are red markings around his neck and inflamed scratch marks near his collarbone.

He slumps not completely unconscious, but is getting there as his legs are completely slack under him. His face is smeared with dirt and sweat, tear trails cutting through it as he grits his teeth and cries. What used to be his back is a raw, bloody slab of meat. There are smears of dirt on it and red speckles everywhere. Some wounds already drying over and creating scabs.

Roxas' eyes flick to the torturer as he raises his arm, his hand holding a bloodied whip.

Roxas' feet sprint forward.


	33. Chapter 32

"Demyx!" Roxas screams. He springs forward and leaps up onto the stage where he goes to grab for the torturer's arm. Wrapping his hands around the man's left forearm, Roxas swings forward, ramming his knee into the man's stomach and wrenching back his arm until he hears a pop and crack. The torturer upon instinct screams but using his right arm, grabs Roxas by the back of his jacket and flings him to the ground. Roxas rolls up onto his feet in front of Demyx, drawing his gun to protect as much of his broken body as possible. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"What am I doing?! What are you doing?!" The torturer asks in a frustrated tone mixed with pain. "I'm just doing my job! Your father ordered this!"

"What?" Roxas is in disbelief but still holds out his gun pointed at the man's bald skull. He doesn't dare look back at Demyx and keeps his eyes forward. Roxas doesn't look out to the crowd of guild members either but knows of their gazes and definitely loose lips that will report to his father soon. "New order. Release him now and seek out medical help for him."

"You're _father_, ordered this to happen." The man repeats.

"I heard you!"

"Then you should know I'm not going to disobey his orders for yours! You're not the King of the Shadows yet!"

Roxas snarls and shoots a bullet at the man, aiming at his feet. The torturer screams and grabs his foot with both hands. Out of his peripherals, Roxas can see the guild members, cloaks of all dark colors, flinching and jerking at the loud pop of the gun. Roxas lunges for the torturer and grabs the collar of the man's shirt and goes to jab the magazine into the man's neck, but his hands are already there, doused in blood. He reaches back and grabs Roxas wrist, flipping him forward the bones in Roxas' arms throbbing as he remembers his shoulder wound. It's been healed by now, but the pain regenerates as Roxas is flung forward. Rolling with the momentum, Roxas kicks the man's legs out from under him and spins up wrenching his arm free. Still the torturer pushes to his knees where he reaches and grabs Roxas wrist once more and whirls around throwing Roxas across the opposite end of the stage away from Demyx.

He turns and readies his right arm – his left dangling limp at his side – and readies to strike Demyx once more. At the last second Roxas comes up with a plan.

He knows he won't have the power to block it, so instead throws himself directly between the whip and Demyx. He takes full force of is across the left side of his face. The pain is blinding and instantaneous. Jagged flashes of light cross his vision and Roxas falls to his knees. One hand keeps him from tipping while the other he manages to rise in the air and block the second oncoming whipping. The man must not have seen Roxas at first. The whip cracks against Roxas' wrist, wrapping around it. Roxas' arm spasms from the searing hot pain races up his arm, his shoulder socket burning. Roxas grits his teeth and uses the pain to pull as hard as he can.

Roxas can already feel the welt rising up, the swelling closing his eye. The splintered wood beneath him is wet with Demyx' blood the air heavy with its scent. Pushing to his feet, gritting his teeth, Roxas keeps his grip on the rope, trying to channel his pain into his grip and his loathing stare at the torturer. Roxas doesn't lift his hand to caress the swelling skin, but stares with his good eye at the balding torturer, of who now gazes at Roxas with a recognizable fear, realizing what it is exactly he's done. Roxas heaves breaths through his mouth as he takes careful steps towards the torturer.

"Now you have to listen to me." Roxas snarls. It feels like it should be hard to try and act tough with half of his face swelling, looking like a strange mutation of a boy with half of his face ballooned up; but Roxas embraces it and turns to face the crowd of guild members.

"You, y-you stepped in front of me!" the torturer shouts. Roxas casts aside the man's ship, sending it skittering until it falls over the edge of the stage.

"That's not what I'm telling my father." Roxas threatens.

"No, no you stepped in front of me, interrupting an order of punishment dispatched by your father!" he tries to counter, but his voice is quaking.

"My father won't care if I blew up half of the damn city. You see my face?! think that my father is going to be pleased to see his 'pure' son with such an epidemic?!" Roxas says pointing to his cheek.

"No, no I didn't -!"

"Yes you did, I saw you!" a voice barks. Terra comes up on the stage and goes to stand behind Roxas. To Roxas surprise, but relief, he can't be more grateful to have an ally in targeting the man.

"This is an outrage! It's all a lie!"

"And who do you think he'll believe?" Roxas says, his voice deep and challenging. "You, or me?" The man opens his mouth to protest, but claps it shut and his face pales. "I didn't think so. Now, we will get him down and to the infirmary for treatment," he turns to the crowd. "And you are all dismissed! The show is over! Now _begone_!"

The cloaks all disperse, scattering like ants as they try to find the proper exit of the garden. Terra approaches the torturer and despite his plea, knocks him unconscious. Roxas is about to collapse to his knees when a strong arm grabs his own. Leon hoists Roxas up, his grip gentle.

"Demyx." Roxas turns, his hands fumbling at the knots binding his wrists. Frustrated, Roxas pulls out his dagger and cuts the rope. Demyx's body collapses to the ground, caught awkwardly by Terra as he tries not to touch the moistened dirt and blood on his back.

"Let's get him to Zexion." Terra suggests. Roxas nods. "Hopefully he can help you too."

"I don't want it to be healed. Let him see the risk and trouble I'm willing to go to." Roxas says.

"Shit." Leon whispers.

There's no flat board or cloths that they can use to hold Demyx steady, so Terra offers to carry Demyx over his shoulder. When Leon says this, both look up to him.

"What?" Roxas asks.

"I just didn't think it was true." says Leon.

"What was?"

Leon rubs his lips before answering. "That you're rebelling against your father."

"I'm not -" Roxas stops short of the words leaving his lips. Is he rebelling against his father? He got a tattoo, and now he's fighting against his own guild to try and spare Axel and the crew their lives. Normally he would have executed anyone else all on his own, and in the cruelest way possible. But now . . . "Or at least, I didn't think I was."

Leon and Terra share a look. Then as Terra hoists Demyx carefully over his shoulder, Roxas says. "I supposed I should thank you." Terra looks to him as they start to walk off stage. "If it weren't' for you, I . . . I don't know what could've happened to Demyx."

"I don't deserve thanks. You weren't supposed to see. I feel pitiful that you had to see, but something had to be done." Terra says.

Roxas is nervous about having Demyx on Terra's shoulder, but it's all they can do. Roxas doesn't have anything to numb the pain, and his body grows cold with worry. His left eye is tearing heavily now, and in the dimming light it's all he can do to follow the two men in front of him.

Terra tells that Cloud had gone down to the dungeon after Roxas' episode in the dining hall, thinking that the crew had cast some kind of spell on Roxas to have hallucinations or such. None of the men seemed to 'confess' so Cloud decided to resort to torturing them as a way to reveal the truth that didn't even exist. Demyx repeatedly said that they did nothing, Leon saying that he even recited into full detail what had happened the whole time Roxas was present on the ship. Still, the torturer proceeded with the whipping. Roxas can't help the whimper in his throat of the thought of his father going down to the dungeon and threatening Axel. Roxas makes a note to go down there himself once he's finished with everything having to do with Demyx. By the time Roxas had gotten there, Demyx had been lashed at least forty-five times.

They enter the corridor, a long hallway that has glass windows on all sides and funnels them into the back of the mansion. Demyx's back is starting to leak more blood and it screams fast down his back with his sweat. Not knowing what else to do, Roxas peels off his jacket and pats it all away as best he can, beginning with the sleeves. The crimson slides off, so he has to fold it inside out and use the inner lining. Roxas stumbles down the now seemingly endless halls, using his ears more than his eyes to guide him. They push through a set of double ebony doors and the maroon carpet instantly changes to white marble flooring, their boots all clicking against it as they navigates past white beds, medical equipment and chairs for waiting.

"Zexion!" Roxas calls.

Within a second, the grey-haired man is there with a book in his hand and takes in the scene.

"Cloud's orders." Terra says, and Zexion gives him a curt nod as if no explanation is needed.

As Leon and Terra carefully carry Demyx over to a shiny metal table, Zexion glances at Roxas and examines his cheek. Roxas can't help but smile. "We're like twins." He says.

Zexion looks to him with a soft smile as he tries to blow a few strands of hair that covers his one eye, out of his view. He tucks them behind his ear as he looks at Roxas. Roxas shakes his head.

"Get to Demyx." He orders.

Zexion nods and enters the room, Roxas not that far behind him. In moments, Demyx is hoisted onto the table and Zexion has rolled out a table filled with medical scissors, syringes and gauze. Zexion pours water from a kettle into a basin while a series of remedies are pulled from the medicine cabinet. The vials and bottles are all encased in a strange yet calming aura of periwinkle. Dried herbs and tinctures and store-bought bottles. They hover and float and rotate around Zexion's head. Roxas goes and sits himself on a wooden stool as he watches Zexion's hands, the long, tapered fingers crumbling this, adding drops of that, into the basin. Soaking a cloth in the hot liquid as the bottles themselves are already starting to prepare a second brew.

"Why are you doing all this when you can heal him with a snap of your fingers?" Roxas asks.

"It's not that simple, Roxas. The essence of the magic can irritate and inflame the skin, causing a viral infection that can easily spread out through the bloodstream. I need to makes sure there's enough skin for the white blood cells to cooperate before I send in any mystics to try and mold the skin together." Zexion says.

He glances at Roxas. "Did you cut your eye?"

"No, it's just swelling."

"Get some ice on that." Zexion instructs. But Roxas clearly isn't the priority of which he's fine with.

"I got it." Leon says as he goes over to a counter drawer, pulling it open and fishing out a small tarp that's been stuffed and shaped a small pillow. He also brings out a small flat container. Setting the tarp pillow on the counter, he unscrews the top of the lid, revealing a very light blue cream. Roxas watches as Leon dips his fingers in it and starts to rub the top of the tarp. Roxas blinks in awe as he sees small glimmers of light flickering like sparks; the pillow inflating and turning blue as Leon adds more cream. When satisfied with the size, he wipes his hand on a towel and walks over to Roxas. "Here. It'll help with the pain at least." He says.

Roxas takes the tarp pillow, amazed at how it feels icy cold to the touch, the feeling of the tarp not as harsh as he imagined. Pressing the pillow to the lump on his cheek, it stings at first, but it's quickly numbed and Roxas can feel his cheek tingling. He stares at Zexion while he sits.

"Can you save him?" he asks. Zexion says nothing as he wrings out the cloth and holds it in the hair to make sure it doesn't drip.

All at once the bottles disperse exactly back to their proper places, and Zexion ever so gently begins cleaning the mutilated flesh on Demyx' back. White rages now replace the vials and bottles, each taking their turn diving into the pot of water and then floating back up and wringing themselves out. Roxas feels sick to his stomach, useless, the icepack still retaining its coldness despite Roxas expecting it to melt like snow. Terra and Leon stay in the room, leaning against not-needed counters with their arms crossed.

Roxas looks around the room and finds a mirror on the opposite wall. He gets off the stool and goes over to assess his own injury. He doesn't really want the swelling to go down as he wants something to show for his . . . rebellion.

"I suppose one of us should go and tell your father?" Leon suggests. "He'll probably wonder where you are. Were you scheduled to do something today?"

"Not that I can remember." Roxas says shaking his head.

He goes back over to the stool and presses the pack against his cheek once more.

By now, Zexion has entered that special zone that includes only himself and the patient, now he barely acknowledges anyone's presence in the room. Even in his expert hands and gentle spells, it takes a long time to clean the wounds, arrange what shredded skin can be saved, apply a salve and a light bandage. His floating periwinkle tools and vials are his only helpers. As they help clear the blood, soon Roxas can see where each stroke of the whip lashed into Demyx' back; the feeling resonating to his own and even around his whole body like a tingle of static. Roxas multiplies his own pain once, twice, forty-five times and can only hope that Demyx remains unconscious. Of course that's too much to ask for. As the final bandages are being placed, a moan escapes his lips. Roxas drops the ice pack to the floor and goes to sit on a shorter stool next to the table, takes Demyx's hand delicately brushes hairs off his still glistening, sweaty forehead. Zexion goes through his store of painkillers, oddly shaped vials floating up to him then away when he rejects them. Roxas looks over and recognizes one bottle as it's filled with similar pills that Vexen gave him while on the ship, when he was helplessly tortured by the venom of the mermaids. Roxas knows Zexion always save the strongest for the worst pains. What that pain is, Roxas doesn't know. He always though he has experienced it before, but now, it all seems like nothing as he watches Demyx start to twitch his fingers.

Since Demyx is starting to regain consciousness, Zexion decides on an herbal concoction he can take by mouth. "That won't be enough." Roxas says. They stare at him. "No disrespect, but that won't be enough. That could barely knockout a headache."

"I'm going to combine it with sleep syrup, Roxas, and he'll manage it. The herbs are more for the inflammation -" Zexion begins calmly.

"But you can't let him be conscious for all this!" Roxas says, his voice laced with urgency to have Demyx not even be aware of his pain. Demyx suddenly stirs at Roxas' voice, and Roxas flinches back a little bit. The movement makes the bandages cause fresh blood to seep into the wounds.

"Roxas, I let you do your job. Let me do mine." Zexion says. Roxas bits the inside of his lip and settles back down the pain in his cheek reduced to a tolerable throb.

Demyx turns to face Roxas, and it takes everything he has not to avoid Demyx' gaze. "Roxas." He croaks.

To Roxas' surprise, he quietly shushes Demyx like a young child, stroking his hair and gripping his hand. "It's alright, Demyx. We're going to help you."

Demyx gives a pained smile and a soft laugh. "You look so ugly right now."

Roxas manages to laugh, but whatever they gave Demyx, Roxas was right, it's not enough. His teeth are grit in pain and his flesh shines from sweat. Zexion swears and suddenly a syringe shoots out from a drawer along with a pink tinted liquid. The syringe fills itself then places itself in Zexoin's hand. He then proceeds to shoot it in Demyx's arm, and almost immediately does he relax. Roxas has seen this kind of reaction before, with Vanitas on the ship.

"What is that?" Roxas asks.

"A special painkiller. You don't need to know what." is all Zexion says.

Once Demyx relaxes and the tension slowly fades, Terra and Leon dismiss themselves with Roxas' thanks. With Demyx now handled, the white rags and small equipment still hover and tinker over him, Zexion moves on to Roxas. Roxas readjusts himself back to the stool and sits slouched while Zexion tentatively touches his face. Just from the enchanted ice pack alone, his swelling around his eye has gone down and he can open it a bit.

"I should be able to fully heal it down to a small cut, if you want." Zexion suggests.

Roxas debates on what to do. He really only did that maneuver so that he can have a form of leverage or power over the order of his father. He needed something to make the torturer obey him. Roxas really didn't plan on using it as a form of snitching on him, but now, perhaps he can use it to show his father just the lengths he's willing to go to for the lives of the crew. Roxas thinks back to when Leon said that there are rumors spreading about him rebelling against his father. At first it didn't seem like it, Roxas was just trying to find ways to keep Axel alive while still obtaining his father's ideal picture of the perfect heir to his dark rule. Yet when thinking it over, he is going against all the things that he was taught his whole life. If he was the way he was when he first left Twilight Town, Axel and the crew would've been dead and Roxas would've been back home no problem, and helping his father gather the guilds in retaliation against the King, who Roxas thought was the real enemy. How could things have been so different so suddenly? It's as if there's a war going on inside of him, and it's more than Roxas can take.

And then it hits him. His father is the one who organized everything. Roxas knew something was suspicious, yet he didn't want to place his finger on it because he didn't think that his father would be that deceitful. He purposely made Roxas get a checkup so that he and his men could go down to the dungeon and fetch Demyx. Roxas would've been completely oblivious to it if it weren't for Terra.

_You weren't supposed to know_.

Roxas fists his hand and his lip partially snarls. His father is plotting behind his back, torturing the men for something that they didn't even do. They are responsible for nothing except for the recovery of Roxas after his bite. They helped him, and no they're getting punished for it. It doesn't make sense. And unlike before, Roxas knows that this is wrong.

Roxas shakes his head. "Leave it, but take away some of the pain. It hurts like a bitch."

Zexion shrugs and holds out his hand. A drawer opens and a small metal container floats over to Zexion. He grasps it lightly and unscrews the top. He dips his fingers in and gently starts to rub it on Roxas' cheek. The cream doesn't sting; frankly Roxas can't even feel it except that it leaves behind a cooling sensation. Once Zexion finishes and screws the cap back on, Roxas feels, almost like a whisper across his face and a soft tickling as the cream is drying.

Then the pain subsides.

"Alright. That's it." Zexion says. "You're free to go."

As he goes over to the drawer and manually opens it and placing the cream back in, Roxas adjusts his position and stares at Zexion.

"I don't get it." he says.

"Get what, Master Roxas."

"You helped in deceiving me for my father, but now you're helping me heal instead of reporting to him about my supposed, rebellious nature." Roxas says putting air quotes around rebellious. "Why?"

"You want to know the truth?"

"I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't." Roxas says.

"I'd tell you, but you of all people should know that these walls have ears, Roxas." Zexion quotes.

Roxas sighs and shakes his head. He knows it's for both of their protection, and it's probably for the best. So with the thought of his father going behind Roxas' back, he lets his anger flare inside his chest and stands up from the stool.

"Thank you, Zexion." Roxas says.

"Of course, Master Roxas."

As Roxas leaves the infirmary, he tries to think of how he can persuade his father the release of Axel and his men. If he was worried that Roxas would be killed, why would he still need to holds Axel and the others captive? Roxas is alive, what more does he need? Torture for taking him? It was an accident, Roxas can see that now. An unintended push of fate. And all the while they treated Roxas, fairly. There's really no need for them to be tortured for showing kindness.

Roxas keeps this in mind as he follows the halls down to his father's chamber.

As he walks through the estate, marveling at various paintings of the faraway lands of Arendelle, Agrabah and Olympus, Roxas lets his mind wander to his own situation. He has been told that everyone is his enemy and that no one can be trusted. Now he is in the midst of the possibly trusting a member of a pirate crew more than his own flesh and blood. Believing that the real enemy has been the one who has stricken Roxas of so many things, and all for what? A vague promise of wealth?

No, it wasn't the wealth. It's the power, he realizes. Cloud had promised Roxas a role at his side, the highest reward he could bestow. If all of Twilight Town quakes in fear at the name of Cloud, might not the same one day happen for Roxas? A foolish fantasy, perhaps, but he could not shake it away. It sucks wisdom from his heart like a leech.

The hall of paintings ends at Cloud's room. Roxas knocks twice, then waits patiently. A moment later the door creeps open, and Roxas walks in. He enters, passing between two torches bracketed to the wall; two cloaked guards as well. Inside is a plush room of velvet reds and silky yellows. An enormous bed, its wooden painted silver and its knobs carved into pairs of wings, is in the far corner. In the center of the room is a rectangular table with six chairs, seeming like a strange joke with its dull finish and undecorated nature amid a sea of decadence.

Cloud sits in the middle seat facing away from the door, speaking with Saix and Cid.

"Father." says Roxas.

Cloud immediately turns his head and raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Roxas, what happened?" he asks as he turns his chair to fully face the boy.

"I'll explain in a moment, but I need to speak with you." Roxas says urgently.

"Roxas I'm afraid I'm in the middle of something right now -"

"Well it can't wait, father. I need to speak with you, _now_." Roxas insists.

Cloud stares at Roxas. Roxas swallows a thick lump in his throat and he stares back holding his ground. "Very well, though I hope you don't mind a crowd."

"I don't care."

"Oh." Cloud draws out the word with deliberate intent. Dread sinks into Roxas at the way his eyes scrape over him, like Cloud would enjoy teaching Roxas how to keep his mouth shut. Cloud moves himself forward and sets his elbows on the table, interlocking his fingers with one another. "Alright what is it?"

Roxas grips the back of the armchair poised in front of his father's table, but refuses to sit. "I want to discuss about your torturing the men of the ship."

"How so?"

"Don't play dumb father, please, it doesn't look good you." Roxas snaps, slapping his palms on the table. Roxas speaks in a steady voice.

Cid suddenly snickers in the corner, but quickly clams up. This time Cloud's eyes narrow to a more valid seriousness, as before it seemed like a more of a cruel, coy amusement. Roxas knows the only way to really get his father's attention is to show he means his business. "Why did you go down there and pull one of the men out for an unprosecuted whipping? It was not deserved!"

"Not deserved? The men kidnapped you!" Cloud argues.

"But they treated me like a member, not a prisoner, father. Why can't you see that? They did nothing wrong. That mermaid bite, it was all me. They actually helped _care_ for me! they could've let me die from the toxin but they didn't."

"You don't think they simply did it for their own benefit?"

"I thought that at first, but these men have nothing to gain from it." Roxas explains, his voice softer and calmer. "They are content with what they have. They don't want money or riches. They're happy."

"What have they been filling your head with?!" Cloud says, raising his voice. "You should've just killed them when you had the chance."

Roxas' body is vibrating, tension coiling within him until Roxas had to clamp his jaw tight to keep from screaming.

"But then I would have had no way of getting home. They're loyal to a fault, father."

"You don't think you could've 'persuaded' them?" Cloud asks.

"Not everyone is going to cooperate with the spillage of blood, father. You need to see that. The point here is that they treated me with kindness and now you're punishing them for bringing me home safely?"

"I'm punishing them because of what they did to you!" Cloud shouts.

"And what would that be?! My "sickness"? Father that's not something they did! It's not some kind of cosmic spell that can be lifted! I'm sick, father! I am _sick_! I'm not perfect, anymore! I never was." Roxas shouts.

"No, no you're just confused!"

"Yes I am, because I don't know who I can trust anymore!"

"How can you not trust me?" Cloud asks. "I am your father."

"You went behind my back to punish the crewmen!" Roxas says. "You sent me on a fake medical examination so that you could go and pluck one of them out from the dungeon! And that's how I got this!" Roxas jabs a thumb to his lumpy cheek. "I stepped in and intervened because he didn't deserve it!"

"You did that to yourself?" Cloud hisses.

"Yes. I did it so that the torturer would stop. He didn't deserve that whipping." Roxas stares daggers, and trying for the first time in his life, not to hate his father. "It was cruel and it was wrong. They did _nothing wrong_! They saved my life in fact. When will you understand that, father?!"

Cloud stares at him, and Roxas braces himself for a hard smack across his face that will – as the phrase goes – knock him into next week.

"But I will admit to you, I am no different. I guess that's what makes us father and son."

Cloud's hard expressions shifts to perplexity. "How so, Roxas?"

Roxas stands tall and straightens his spine. "I've done some things that you would not approve. But I have no regrets and I'm proud of it."

"What did you do?" Cloud asks, his expression hardening. He glares at Roxas, and Roxas can see his anger building. Yet, he doesn't care. If his father chooses to beat him, Roxas is strangely content with it. It wouldn't be the first time his father has laid his hands on Roxas as a form of disciplinary. And if it means sparing Axel and the men a day of his father's wrath, it'll be worth it.

Roxas doesn't say anything, instead he reaches up and grips his collar, pulling it down to reveal the flame tattoo on his chest, encased in a heart. Cloud and Cid and Saix stare at the tattoo with a look of fascination and shock but say nothing about it.

"Cool, right?" Roxas coldly teases trying to act like a typical teenager.

"You did that, yourself?" Cloud asks, his voice now quaking from his anger. He rises from his seat, his palms flat on the table now.

"Why," Roxas acts like the stupid teenagers he always sees when scouring the rooftops, arguing with their parents over tattoos, certain styles of clothes and a significant other that they don't approve of. He even mocks their tone. "You don't like it? I thought it was _so_ cool."

Cloud senses this and fists his hands. "I needed you pure!" he hisses through grit teeth.

"So you just planned of shutting me away in the house until I was old enough to inherit your 'empire'?" Roxas mocks. "What kind of a man would -!"

His words are cut off as the door is busted open and two more cloaked men drag in a beaten and bruised man in ragged clothing.

"Ah, at last." says Cloud.

Roxas feels his stomach plummet.

Axel.

He is bruised and beaten and smeared with moistened dirt. With his hands tied, the men drop Axel carelessly and he collapses to the floor. Axel has at least one broken rib, his arms and legs ache fiercely with bone-deep bruises, and his eyes are nearly swollen shut. Roxas can imagine what Axel must've done to earn the injuries, but he still can't understand how much of a fight Axel put up to not be removed from the cell.

Pain is a constant companion for Axel – stabbing him with every breath and making a mockery of his attempts to sleep.

But worst of all is the burn on his neck. Every throb of agony from his seared flesh is a reminder of Cloud's power over him. Axel was going to use the pain to focus on a plan to escape, but not only are this thoughts fuzzy and vague, but it was then he was dragged from the cell and brought now to Cloud's study.

"Axel!" Roxas breathes. Immediately upon, almost an instinctive nature, Roxas rushes the man and kneels before him, caressing his face. Axel looks up to him and gives a weak smile. He looks like he hasn't slept much and the bruises are becoming purple with sickly yellow veins underneath.

"What are you doing?!" Roxas demands.

"I'm going to show you who you can really trust." Cloud says.

The expression on the Cloud's face turns the dread coursing through Roxas into stone. Stepping away from his chair, he marches toward Roxas with slow deliberation. The torches paint grotesque shadows on his face as he passes them, and Roxas and Axel brace themselves. Cloud then stands behind the armchair, gripping its back with bloodless fingers. He is beginning to look close to his seventy-odd years. His skin was worn and thin, and wrinkles score the backs of his hands. Still, his frame is muscular, and he moves with the steady grace of an experienced fighter.

Roxas carefully rises from his position in front of Axel, still keeping his hand cupped under Axel's chin.

"I did some research on your little, captain here. And I must say his record is very impressive." says Cloud. His words were brittle slaps against the air. His fingers clenched against the back of the chair, like he means to snap it in two. "Now, what stood out to me the most, was the date of September 19th. You were only a baby by then, too young to remember any of it." Cloud speaks.

Roxas can feel Axel's throat contrast as he swallows. "Oh my god." He mumbles with a quaking voice. Roxas looks to him, concerned, then back to his father.

"What-?"

"The guards of the city had received word of a bar fight that had happened at around midnight. They go to investigate and find the scene to be that of a murder." Cloud continues. His tone is so, scientific, calculating as if the information he is telling has little to no effect or purpose. "They found the body of a woman, facedown, in her own blood."

Roxas stares at his father, his heart starting to race.

"The guards followed the trail, gathered clues from witnesses and followed the little trail straight back to your little captain, here. Found him sitting on the sidewalk, head braced between his hands, sobbing hysterically with blood coating his hands and chest." Cloud points to Axel with an expression of absolute loathing.

"Okay, fine." Roxas says. "I've killed many after him, and received little punishment."

"Ah, but what you don't know, is that I had sent out your mother that very same night. You were about, how old were you. Three . . . four?" Cloud mocks.

Terror rips a white-hot path through Roxas' body, and he can barely breathe. His blood roars in his ears. Cloud stares at Roxas for an excruciating moment. At first, embarrassment abounds as suddenly all of Roxas' hard work to keep Axel alive was all for nothing. His cheeks turn red, but Roxas' brain simply connects it with being told this story.

Axel has flashes of the woman, battered and bloody lying face down on the cobblestone. The puddle of blood seeped into the ends of her hair, and splattered along her petticoat. Her wrists coated in crimson, the faces of onlookers as they stared at him in horror. In fact, Axel remembers it like it was yesterday. Her black hair, her pale skin, her sapphire eyes that match Roxas' perfectly.

Roxas' hand slips away from Axel's chin, and Axel looks up to find the boy has moved over and has sat in the chair next to the one his father stands next to. He stares vacantly ahead as if locked in his own self-induced trance. His face is pale s a ghost and his lip is quivering. His eyes suddenly shocked and devoid of color. Axel can see that his tattoo is fully revealed, and while not knowing what had exactly happened before all of this, he has a feeling it had something to do with him.

"Men declared it a murder." Cloud tortuously continues. "Witnesses say that the man had red hair and also a few heavy pints before the initial breakout. Though, not many can say what caused it. That's where I feel your, friend, here can help."

Roxas slowly turns his head to face Axel, his features, now gaunt and haunted, no longer held their usual innocent and compassion. Shock punches little frissons of panic through Axel, for it's as if he's seeing the . . . 'old' Roxas. The look on his face. Cold. Fierce. Empty. His blue eyes so wounded. Like someone snuffed out the Roxas they all knew and sent out a hollow shell in his place.

"Roxas." Axel can only mumble, or almost whimper. "Please."

Roxas just stares at him for a moment, his embarrassment still abounding, though he wasn't wrong about most of the things he said, he needs to hear it from Axel's lips. Despite the shaking feeling in his legs, Roxas stands straight and rigid.

This isn't good.

Roxas approaches Axel, but keeps a torturously distance away from Axel.

_No. Please_.

"Axel . . ." Roxas softly speaks. "What happened?" Axel lowers his head and takes a deep breath. He licks his lips. "Axel!" Roxas' voice suddenly barks, causing Axel to cringe.

Axel looks up to the blonde.

"What happened?" Roxas repeats.

"I didn't mean for it to happe -"

"Tell me . . . what happened!" Roxas demands.

Axel sighs and lowers his head. He's displaying all things that show he is guilty of the alleged accusation. But he needs to gather himself and tell Roxas before he has to put it in words. Axel looks up to Roxas.

"It was a dark night, and I had just lost my job and had spent my nights during that week at the whore houses."Axel starts. "I was wasting my life away and I was caught up in the bar that night, and I had, put myself in a bad, and drinking all kinds of concoctions."

Axel pauses to look up. Roxas stares coldly, still waiting for Axel to finish.

"And I had started to, _talk_ to this one woman who was beautiful. She was the life of the party and . . . I had gotten her to notice me."

"Axel." Roxas whispers, so quietly no one heard it. He's thankful. Roxas can feel his hope diminishing quickly and suddenly feels like crying as he thinks back to trying to stand up to his father mere minutes ago. All wasted. All embarrassing.

"And, when she rejected me," Axel stops as his voice cuts off. He coughs, choking up. "I . . . I followed her and I . . . taunted her. She asked me to stop, politely. She said it was nice to meet her, but she needed to get home. I-I assumed she was just saying it to get away from. My thoughts raced, I got flashbacks, and I just got so angry . . ."

"Axel." Roxas says. Axel realizes he's bowed his head, avoiding Roxas' face as he tells the story. "Look at me." Roxas says. Roxas' lungs burn; his next breath rattles as on the way in.

Axel keeps his head down. Tears stinging his eyes as he folds his lips in.

"_Look at me_!" Roxas suddenly screams and slams his hand on the table, sending it reverberating and echoing with the space. Axel reluctantly lifts his head, eyes gleaming with tears. Roxas' are similar, and his face is turning red, his cheeks raw. His lips stretch, ready to sob.

"Did, you . . . _kill_ my mother." Roxas pronounces all the synonyms like he means to bite them into pieces.

Axel stares at Roxas for a moment, glances down and gathers himself. He looks back up to Roxas.

"Yes."

Something inside Roxas collapses. His chest is so tight, suffocating can't breathe. Tears brim the edges of his eyes, blurring Axel's features, making it hard to see.

Pain stabs through Roxas as everything he is made of collapses, his entire world dismantled in a moment. His eyes burned and his face morphs as if he's ready to either break down crying or he's ready to convulse. Axel wants to rest his head on the ground and let that be the end of it. He wanted to sleep now and never wake up.

Roxas hunches over, unable to support his own grief. He sinks into the chair. Still can't breathe. Roxas presses both palms to his chest and rocks back and forth to free the tension in his chest. All those times he could never experience with his mother, he never did experience all because of Axel. Axel took away all possible memories of his mother, all because she wouldn't spread her legs for him. All the words he never found time to say. All the things they never found time to do. Ripped from him with merciless finality at Axel's hands. Axel took away his memories.

Axel took away his mother.

"I trusted you . . ." Roxas murmurs.

"Roxas, please, you have to understand -!"

"_Shut up_!" Roxas screams at the top of his lungs.

Axel ceases his words immediately, his eyes gleaming with tears ready to spill over in seconds.

"Roxas . . ." he whimpers softly.

"Men!" Roxas shouts. Two cloaked men surround Axel in seconds. "Get him out of my sight!"

Rough hands grab Axel and haul him to his feet. "No! Roxas, please you have to understand! Listen, please -!"

"He shall die at dawn!" Roxas orders.

Axel feels his world halt and his body becomes as rigid as stone.

"For the murder of my mother." Roxas says, his tears spilling freely.

The men haul Axel out of the room as he tries to call to Roxas to listen to him, but Roxas blocks him out. Cloud, leaning against the table with a satisfied smile, arms crossed, pushes off and goes to clap his hand on Roxas' shoulder.

When he does, Roxas harshly smacks it away and suddenly he's running out the door of the study, zigzagging through the halls of the mansion and disappearing into a crawlspace behind the bookshelf of his bedroom.

Fresh tears fill Roxas' eyes, causing the world to swim. Roxas blinks and they fall searing the skin of his already raw cheeks. Shutting his eyes tight, Roxas wills the tide of despair welling up within me to subside. A sob rises from the depths, but Roxas catches it before it could escape. Roxas swallows hard, forcing it down.

It feels like drowning.

Grief was a yawning pit of darkness blooming at his core. Roxas can hardly stand beneath its weight.

_I can't bear this. I can't_.

Deep inside he hears the faint wailing of the grief-stricken boy grow louder, and he clamps his lips tight to hold it in.

Thanks to his father, Roxas can see Axel for who he really is. Distrustful. Secretive. Betrayer.

And Roxas hates his father for it.


	34. Chapter 33

Deep inside, he hears an anguished wailing – the wordless kneeing of unbearable grief.

Roxas can't stand to hear it. To feel it. To let it live. A yawning pit of darkness within him opens wide, whispering promises to take the pain. Swallow the loss. Make it possible to draw a breath without choking on the shattered pieces no one will ever fix. Loss is a gaping hole with jagged teeth, and Roxas can't bear it. The wall of grief inside him slowly subsided into a well of icy silence – deafening and absolute. It rips Roxas in two, cutting him off from everything he can't stand to face.

Roxas read somewhere, once, that crying defies scientific explanation. Tears are only meant to lubricate the eyes. There is no real reason for tear glands to overproduce tears at the behest of emotion.

Roxas always thought we cry to release the animal parts of us without losing our humanity. Roxas now thinks he is right. Because inside his is a beast that snarls, growls, and strains for freedom, toward Axel.

As hard as he tries, Roxas can't kill the animal. He can't kill it.

So he sobs into his hands instead.

His father was right. Of course.

His eyes focus on a small spider making its web in the crooked corner of the wooden support beams. Revenge takes energy. Roxas embraces his rage. Lets it sink into his secret spaces and makes him its own until he is a stranger beneath his skin. Roxas wears armor on the inside, a metal forged of fury and silence, cutting him off from himself.

Fury is a welcome companion, warming Roxas with something that feels like comfort.

Roxas must've fallen asleep because the clock chimes, startling Roxas and causing him to kick his feet into the wall. Wincing in pain, he panics for a minute worried that he might've destroyed the spiderweb, but finds it still intact. He feels his way around to get a picture of the space once more and feels for the door. He crawls out and finds his room dark, the moonlight suffocated by the dark ebony curtains. Shutting the door behind him, Roxas checks the clock and finds that it's midnight. No candles are lit and since Roxas isn't tired due to his nap, he decides to grab his cloak and leave the bedroom and roam the halls; maybe go for a midnight snack.

The welt on his face has gone down more so he can fully open his eye but it still hurts to stretch the skin, like when he opens his mouth too wide. Hugging the cloak around his shoulders, Roxas fists parts of the fabric in his hands and wraps it about himself like a robe. It's still ragged and torn, bits of it dragging behind Roxas as he walks the carpeted halls. As he does, he takes in how quiet it is here. Usually the halls are quietly shuffling with night servants still cleaning or setting things up in the morning. Now willing to let his guard down ever again, Roxas keeps his hand on his gun as he wanders the halls. He doesn't know where he's going, but he doesn't care. He's just trying to wear himself out.

His heart aches. Axel killed his mother. No wonder his father doesn't approve of pirates. All this time, Roxas trying to keep him alive, all the times they confided in one another.

All of the kisses they shared. Wasted.

Did Axel ever plan on telling Roxas? Probably not. Despite his rage at Axel, Roxas still believes that the men shouldn't have to suffer for his, blunder. But why? Why should he have to care about the crew anymore? What other secrets could they each possibly be hiding? They should all suffer for Axel's wrongdoing. If they are loyal to a fault, then they shall share the same fate and die along with their captain. Ventus. Roxas needs only to think of Ventus and all his resolve disintegrates. Roxas made it his job to protect him. But now that Roxas himself has declared Axel's execution, could Ventus even want to be . . . friends, anymore? He pulls his hood up over his head, and his breathing is so rapid he's suddenly choking for air. He is so young. So innocent. He may not like Roxas using that wording to describe him, but it is all there is to describe him. He can't let Cloud hurt Ventus.

And then Roxas realizes, he already has. He's had beaten Axel into a state of immobility and coming and going unconsciousness. He has whipped Demyx irrevocably and he now lies in the infirmary in a medically induced coma. He nearly got kidnapped by a group of filthy lowlives who would've done anything they wanted to him . . . Roxas himself has exposed Ventus to the blood and guts and gore of his lifestyle and has shown his merciless side without hesitation. Ventus has been hurt far worse than Roxas has even at the same age.

Ventus . . . isn't he the very reason Roxas has to try and fight? Because what has been done to him is so wrong, so beyond justification, so evil that there is no choice? Because no one has the right to teat Ventus as he has been treated?

Yes. This is the thing to remember when fear threatens to swallow Roxas up. What he is about to do, whatever he's forced to endure, it is for him. It's too late for Axel, but maybe not for Demyx or Zack. Not too late for Ventus.

Roxas roams the hallways and goes up and down stairs for about thirty minutes when he hears another set of footsteps. He immediately stops in his tracks and freezes like a deer. He doesn't look over his shoulder, he doesn't even turn his head. He waits.

"Master Roxas, it's a late night." Lexaeus says. Roxas turns to find the burly man with his hood down, his cloak draped around his body.

"I wanted to be alone." Roxas speaks placidly.

"Master, did something happen? If I may ask." Lexaeus says as he approaches the boy, his head leaning slightly to the side in curiosity, but his eyes search Roxas.

"It's nothing to be concerned about." Roxas immediately declines. "I've had a long day."

"Very well then." Lexaeus replies, almost sounding disappointed. Roxas stays in his place as Lexaeus' heavy footsteps are muffled by the thick carpet. He passes Roxas, and for a moment, Roxas is reversed back to a child and suddenly wants to run to Lexaeus, throw himself in the man's arms and cry to him about everything that's happened. Lexaeus has been more of a father to Roxas than anything since he's spent more time with Roxas training and aiding him on missions, offering him advice and corrections. Cloud did go with Roxas a few times, but it still a rather pathetic comparison. Roxas hasn't seen his father's compassionate side since he had entered his teen years, but Lexaeus' demeanor is, different.

"Lexaeus." Roxas suddenly calls. Lexaeus turns around immediately at attention. "What will my father plan to do with the prisoners?" Roxas almost wants to slap himself when his tone quakes as he speaks.

Lexaeus' lips part ever so slightly, but then they close as if he needs time to properly word his answer. Out of nowhere, Roxas' hands begin to shake. He's grateful he has his cloak on, but even in the moonlight leaking through the tall windows, Roxas can see the fabric itself rippling from his quaking. Roxas mentally curses him as he tries to lift his arms, his head lowering to watch and try to stop. Roxas emerges his hands from behind the curtain of his cloak to try and pull his hood down, but they're obviously shaking now. Then Roxas feels firm hands gently wrap around his shoulder. The simple touch makes his eyes water, but still he looks up to Lexaeus hard face.

"I'm sorry, Roxas." He starts, and Roxas swallows thickly. A tear escaping his eyes. "But you need to get to your father's study. Meet me at the corner of Market Street and Prairie when you can."

Those last words barely escape his lips before Lexaeus turns away and continues down the opposite end of the hallway. Roxas stands there momentarily baffled before he pivots on his feet and he starts to run down the hallways and corridors until he reaches the east wing of the mansion and rounds a sharp left corner. He slows, speedwalking now until he reaches the middle door to the left and stops. He's breathing fast, and his forehead is starting to sweat as he stands in front of the giant oak doors, feeling his heart race. His stomach roils as he tries to think of what punishment awaits him. Roxas was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't have time to realize that his father is surely to punish him for his simple and single tattoo. Roxas didn't think he could handle anything more tonight. Everything was exploding in his face.

Roxas knocks on the door, and immediately his father's voice tells him to come in.

Pushing open the door, Roxas finds his worst fear. The entire crew, Xigbar, Marluxia, Zack, Vexen, Demyx – who is already looking better within the span of a few hours. Luxord and Axel. And Ventus. Roxas feels his stomach plummet, his body so numb. He can see though that Axel has more bruises on his face and now a cut above his eyebrow.

Ventus stares at Roxas, purple bags under his eyes and a medium sized welt on his left cheek squints his one eye. Ventus can only wonder what had happened, but after seeing Demyx when he was dragged in here, Ventus can only assume.

Four cloaked, the colors divergent, mill around the corners by the fireplace and two of the Shadow Guild's, stand around Cloud as he sits at his desk. Roxas feels like throwing up. The table of which is normally scattered with papers and pens and daggers and coin purses, is swipes completely clean. Nothing is there but the bare wood shining in the reflection of the fire. Over on an end table - of which holds a vase of flowers and a simple blank picture frame – seemingly out of place is a metal tray of syringes. Each is filled with different colors of liquids.

"Keep your mouth shut until I ask you a question." Cloud says.

If there is anything Roxas is good at, it is keeping silent. He nods. As he rounds the men, all knelt with hands bound behind their backs ten feet in front of his father's desk, Roxas looks only to Ventus. The boy looks at Roxas, keeping his eye contact. They flicker with a mixture of relief, worry, pleas and disappointment.

Roxas felt as though he is the one who is in more danger than the crew. If cloud tortured _him_, he would talk. He has no delusions on that. Cloud would show to the crewmen he has absolutely _no_ mercy or compassion in his heart whatsoever by torturing his own son.

Gods damn it all, how could he have messed up so badly?

"Remember, I do this for you own good." Cloud says as he rises from his seat behind the desk.

Roxas thinks he might've heard a small bit of regret and pain in Cloud's voice, but he quickly thinks he might've imagined it. Cloud rounds the desk and points to a spot right in between Demyx and Ventus.

"Stand there." He orders.

Roxas does as he's told and with his still seemingly shaking legs walks to stand in between Demyx and Ventus, knelt on his right and left. They don't say anything to each other. Cloud walks over to one of the cloaked men – his is a navy blue – and begins talking. With his hood up, there is no way to decipher who it is, but all Roxas can assure is that it's not Zexion by the height and built.

As he steps up, Roxas realizes that his cloak belongs to that of a mage, and he can remember one in particular who has long been in the employ of his father.

"Stay still." The mage says, his voice thin and reedy. "All of you. If my concentration is breaks, I won't be able to try again until tomorrow."

Roxas entertains the idea of shouting out a bizarre stream of cusswords to disrupt the mage, but decides otherwise. Instead Roxas watches him cast his spell. The man is a poor mage, in both money and abilities, hence his easy recruitment into the Shadow Guild many years ago. He spends most of his days sequestered apart from the rest of the men, reading books and pretending to advance his skill while in reality dong his best to drink the days away. The only time Roxas saw a glimpse of what he probably looked like beforehand – when there was passion in his eyes – is when he was tutoring Zexion. He would smile and clap at him, dote on him by having him help mix potions, and suddenly it was as if all of his information had been drawn back for that time span. Then once Zexion leveled up in advancement, his passions and ambitions slowly died away like the flower for winter.

Arcane words of power pass through the mage's lips, sounding clunk and odd. Roxas has little experience with spellcasters, but thought their casting should sound more fluent and natural then what he hears.

The mage abruptly stops and wipes his brow. Roxas feels a slight tingle shoot up his back, as if someone is rubbing him with flower petals.

"There. The spell is cast." He says.

"Excellent." Cloud says. "Leave us to our business."

The mage looks happy to oblige. Once he leaves, it is just the guild members, the crew members, Cloud and Roxas. Cloud paces before them all, the icy fury of his face gradually growing.

"Crewmen, I've brought you all here because of certain actions by my son. I know the rest of my men well as well as the other guilds; but you eight are new to my home. Too long have I turned a blind eye. No longer. Delius, draw your sword."

One of the cloaked men, one of the Shadows Guild's men, did as he was told.

"There is a spell over all of you." Cloud continues. "when you talk, the spell will cease any lies. I will hear only truth on these matters."

At this, Roxas' heart sinks. But at the same time he has to fight the urge smile. So the truth will come out. And it will sound as beautiful as a song bird in spring. None of them can tell a lie. His own life might be forfeit for killing a fellow guild member if Cloud was the one who kept sending them out. Cloud glares at him, but Roxas holds his stare defiantly. Cloud paces before Roxas and the prisoners as everyone watches him.

"You should have killed the men when you first emerged on the ship. Even if none of them would follow your orders, I know you have more than enough potential to, persuade them, into cooperating. I now see hesitance where I once saw inexperience. I see mercy where I saw misjudgment. And you men are the ones who planted these horrible ideas into my son's head. I want to know who."

Neither of the men speak.

"Keep silent, then." Cloud says as he paces. "It is better than lies. I spent years raising Roxas to be the heir to my inheritance of shadows and guild. A great honor amongst thieves. Before, I saw my perfect prodigy. Cold, ruthless. Everything an assassin should be. The underworld rules the city of Twilight Town. Thieves, smugglers, assassins, they all will fear his name. And I will not have his heart weakened with words of compassion and mercy."

The men all keep their head slow, Roxas keeping his head high, neck straight. His insides writhe as his father walks up and stops in front of him. His eyes cold, looking down upon Roxas as if he is another prisoner.

"Then there is the matter of your, blemish." Cloud speaks, his pointer finger touching dead center of Roxas' flame tattoo. "You will not go unpunished for this atrocity."

"I expected no less from you." Roxas speaks. All his words come out.

Cloud then steps back and takes Delius' sword. He holds the hilt towards Roxas. With a shaking hand, Roxas accepts the offered blade. He feels strong hands take his shoulders and guide him before Ventus. Ventus kneeling with his hands tied behind his back. Anger blares within Roxas' chest.

"I don't want to." He says. All there heard.

"I will suffer none to betray me," Cloud says. "Kill him. Let his blood cover your hands so you know the price of weakness. Dabble in betrayal, dabble in death. Now do as you're told."

"I refuse to!"

Cloud gives Roxas a hard glare.

"Get him on the table." says Cloud, sounding bored. Roxas stares for a second at the sheet of wood that awaits him when his father moves. What will he have them do? Execute him on this very table? No, otherwise he wouldn't have mentioned Roxas' future of fear and shadows.

"Father -!" Rough hands clamp around Roxas' arms and he writhe, throwing all his strength into the struggle. Roxas immediately brings his leg up and rams it between the men behind him. A high-pitched scream stops in his throat and already the other men are on Roxas. It takes all four of them men together to simply lift Roxas up as they dodge his kicking feet, and slams him down on the wooden slab, knocking the wind out of him. They rip off his cloak.

"Roxas!" he hears Ventus scream for the first time since they've been in the room.

Roxas gasps and flings a fist out at whatever he can hit, which just happens to be a jaw of one man. He winces, but by now the other men are restraining Roxas' wrists and restraining his body. One of them holds down Roxas shoulders while the other holds down his ankles.

_He wouldn't_, Roxas thinks, panicking.

"What the hell are you doing?" Roxas demands, craning his neck to look at his father. "If you're going to punish me, do it. Don't bring them into this!"

"Don't you understand, Roxas. This is _part_ of your punishment." Cloud says, glancing at the crew.

Roxas' throat feels swollen.

"In a few seconds Aaron here will inject you with this liquid. At this point, I'm only trying to preserve my reputation, and show you the error of your ways. You needed to keep yourself wholesome. Treat your body like a temple."

"If the body is a temple, why not decorates the walls?" Roxas defies with a snarl.

"Because I need someone the men will respect more than me. Someone to fear more than me. I need to know that my hard work to build up this reputation isn't going to waste." Cloud explains. "Thanks to the pried information of your mate Vexen, the men were able to develop a serum to stimulate the amygdale, which is responsible for processing fear, and induce a hallucination on that fear."

Roxas feels his heart beat so fast.

They've practically recreated the mermaid's venom.

Roxas can see Axel give Vexen a death glare. If looks could kill, he'd be dead three times over.

"When developing, it was discovered that certain levels of potency overwhelmed the brain and made it too insensible with terror to invent new surroundings." Cloud continues.

Aaron, who wears the green cloak of the Spider Guild, taps the syringe with his fingernail.

"Fear," Cloud says. "is more powerful than pain."

The needle inserts into Roxas' neck.

"Roxas!"

It begins quietly, with the pounding of a heart. Roxas is not sure, at first, whose heartbeat he's hearing, because it's far too loud to be his own. But Roxas realizes that it is his own and it's getting faster and faster.

Sweat collects in his palms and his knees.

And then he has to gasp in order to breathe.

That's when the screaming starts

And Roxas

Can't

Think.

* * *

Roxas' body is tied to a thick pole. A scream fills the air and Roxas cranes his head to see where it's coming from. Suddenly a snake slithers up to him and slowly straights so that he's leveled with Roxas. His heart beats fast.

"_It's all your fault_." It hisses.

Then it slithers around Roxas' neck, the touch so tentative and he can feel its smooth scales wrap around his neck. Suddenly there's a flicker of light in the blackness. Roxas looks ahead and finds a small spark that explodes, the warmth rushing Roxas' face.

"Roxas." says Axel.

Axel stands still with his bruises and cuts and he holds out his hand. Roxas struggles to reach it but his hands are bound above his head. Then there's the sound of rushing water and it hurdles towards both of them. Roxas stands perfectly still while he watches as Axel is tossed and turned in all directions. "Roxas, help me!" he hears Axel _says_. Roxas screams, wasting his air as he tries to reach out to Axel. A pair of blindingly white hands emerged from within the churning void. Like talons, they clung to his chest. A mermaid's white face appears in a flash over Axel's shoulder – her eyes two empty sockets. She grabs a handful of Axel's hair and yanks him back. Her mouth opens wide, her jaw unhinging and giant talons gleam in the rippling of the water. She sinks her teeth into Axel's neck and blood oozes out, polluting the water. Roxas screams, writhing; Axel's blood swallows down his throat, the taste coppery and salty. If this was a dream he would've been pulled free by now. Even the reminder that he was in his father's office moments ago doesn't even help the rising hysteria. The mermaid hisses, blood dripping from her fangs as she drags Axel away into the blackness.

There's a rushing sensation and the water is gone and Roxas is dropped to a solid ground again. He heaves and coughs, spitting out water and blood. Without hearing his name, Roxas lifts his head to find Vanitas now. Roxas screams for him to run, but as he does, the ground shifts and a sudden buzzing and hissing and clicking can be heard. Swarms of insects fly past Roxas and land on Vanitas. He screams and beats at them to no avail. The smell of rotting flesh fills the air and Roxas gags. Roxas tries to throw himself against the binds that hold him to the post. "No!" he tries to look away but the snake wraps itself around him and forces his head up; its fangs delicately pry Roxas' eyes open. The insects are beetles and ants, Vanitas claws at his eyes and his face. The bugs force their way into his mouth and ears. He gags and coughs but they only penetrate further. The ants bore into his eyes and he screams for Roxas to help. The last thing Roxas sees is his hand rise up, then the swarms of insects envelope his hand and it's gone.

Roxas thrashes and screams at the top of his lungs. Tears sting his eyes as the pressure of the snake is still on his neck. Finally, Ventus stands with his back to Roxas. "No," Roxas whimpers. "Please, stop." Ventus turns around as if he hears Roxas' voice and he gives Roxas that same soft smile he's grown familiar to. But then the sound of men's laughter fills the air. _No_ . . . In a flash three men surround Ventus. They wear nothing but loincloths and one has a long beard, the other a snaggletooth smile. They laugh and taunt Ventus, who cowers, holding himself. "No! Stop!" Roxas screams. One of the men reaches out and grabs Ventus by the hair. He holds Ventus where while he reaches his hand down the boy's pants to his groin. Ventus cries to Roxas. The men laugh in mockery. The man keeping his hand down Ventus' pants, uses his other hand to pinch at Ventus' nipple. One proceeds to push Ventus to his back and forces his legs open. Anger replaces fear and Roxas is now struggling to free himself. The snake slithers to hold him still, hissing, "_It's your fault_." Roxas turns his head away from it, but then a different voice comes through. His father's voice. "_I do this for your own good_." The rage inside explodes like a fire that's been doused with gasoline. The moment the head of the snake comes around to Roxas' front, Roxas reaches down and bites at the snake as hard as he can. It wriggles momentarily before Roxas bites harder, his teeth breaking the skin and tasting blood. He spits it out and screams at the men, the blood of the snake dribbling down the corner of his mouth. They ignore him as they crowd around Ventus, his screams growing more agonized.

Roxas' back lifts, arching and all his muscles clench and his throat aches from this scream that no longer shapes itself into words and will not stop.

* * *

It's torturing just like before on the ship. Axel and the men watch as Roxas continuously thrashes against the men holding him down. Axel can tell by their glistening foreheads that it's taking up a lot of their strength to contain him. Roxas then starts to slam his head in fear and fury again and again against the table. His head must hurt, but he's so hysterical that he doesn't notice. Axel looks over in the corner and finds Cloud standing off to the side, a troubled look on his face. Axel can't tell what exactly he's feeling, but he knows that watching this is clearly disturbing and uncomfortable for him.

"Sedative." His stern voice then commands.

Why he doesn't stop it sooner, Axel doesn't know. Then again, this is the man who started it.

A needle pokes at Roxas' arm and almost in an instant he stops fighting. But now he simply wails in a horrible, dying-animal way until his voice gives out. Roxas' heart begins to slow down. He sobs with relief. For seconds all he can do is sob with relief. That was not fear. That was something else; an emotion that shouldn't exist.

The drug causes sedation, not sleep, so Roxas is trapped in fuzzy, dully aching misery for what seems like always.

"Roxas." Axel says, and his voice sounds rough and creaky.

From screaming probably.

Roxas blinks fast so he can see him through his tears. His face, along with Ventus, express horror and heartbreak but at least they're not getting devoured by mermaids or assaulted by filthy men; they're all right. Roxas' head pounds. When the men's hands finally release him, he doesn't move.

His muscles ache, probably from being clenched for however long Cloud left him with that serum pulsing through him. Roxas lifts his hand, feeling heavier than normal and rubs his head. He feels . . . light. Like his head was inflated, and the slightest tilt made him feels disoriented. When his hand falls away from his face, a few specks fall with it. It falls heavy on the wood.

No one touches Roxas, no one advances towards him. The room spins as Roxas lifts his head, but he manages to put his legs over the edge of the table and stand. He feels slight vertigo as he delicately sways.

"Roxas." Cloud's voice says.

Roxas slowly turns to face his father. And the anger from the hallucination blazes fresh and new. Cloud doesn't say anything, and Roxas would have if it weren't for a gurgling in his stomach. Roxas ends up burping, but along with it comes bile and yellowed bits of the dinner he ate hours ago. Roxas haunches over, several men averting their eyes as he vomits onto the carpet, dropping to his knees without meaning to. The bile burns his throat like an acid, and a drop of it makes its way into his nose. As he tries to turn, he winds up banging his head against the side of the desk, but it feels good. He does it again before he grips a shaking hand onto the desk, hoisting himself up. His foot nearly slips in his own vomit as he stands. He leans one hip against the edge of the table and sloppily wipes his mouth with his sleeve, spitting a dribble of drool off to the side.

Before he can react, another needle injects into his neck and Roxas' arms floppily flail at nothing by the time the needle is removed. He haunches over the table, ready for another entourage of horrific hallucinations, but nothing happens. In fact, he slowly starts to feel better. The dizziness in his head deflates and he can feel his stomach calming as it was preparing to gurgle again. As his pain begins to decrease, he forces himself to take a breath. He feels the magic of the serum work all along his body. The pain in his muscles reduces to a mere throb, his urge to vomit vanishes.

Roxas blinks and his vision becomes clearer and less rocky. "Roxas." Cloud repeats. Roxas whirls around and gives him a look of absolute loathing. "Kill him. Now. Or you will suffer once more."

Something desperate and dark awakens within Roxas, biting through his stomach like bile. He wants to fling the sword across the room and stick it in his father' throat. Roxas gives a vicious snarl, a soft, deep growl as he reaches for the short sword.

"Roxas." Roxas looks over to Ventus, of whom has his head down. Roxas hurries over, keeping the grip on the sword. His movements aren't as smooth, but it doesn't matter as he collapses in front of Ventus. Roxas goes and gently cups Ventus' face like he does. Ventus lifts his head and as impossible as it seems, the boy is smiling.

"Ventus -"

"It's okay, Roxas." Ventus' voice quivers and his eyes fill with tears. They spill over instantaneously. "I forgive you."

Roxas lets go of his face and takes a few paces back on his knees.

"I forgive you." Ventus repeats, a strangled sob escaping his lips, as if trying to look brave. His tears stream along his cheeks, gathering at his chin and dripping onto the carpet.

Roxas gives an inconspicuous shake of his head. Ventus gives a weak, breathy laugh.

"I forgive you, Roxas. Now do it."

No lie. Roxas can't believe it. Forgiveness before the sin was even committed, unasked, undeserved. As he holds the short sword, Roxas feels like dying. To kill his friend as a sacrificial lamb for his father, all so that Roxas wouldn't have to undergo another round of tortuous delusions. All to save his own life. No, it needs to be the other way around. Roxas should be enduring all the horrific mirages in the world if it means sparing Ventus' life. But what will happen to Axel and the others?

Roxas takes two careful steps towards Ventus, now standing over him. Tears are in his eyes. His lips quiver and stretch into a sorrowful frown. "Thank you for being my friend." he whimpers quietly. His tears spill over.

Roxas swings the blade.

With a sickening, wet thunk, the sword plunges deep into Ventus' chest, burying itself to the hilt. Blood pours from the wound, dark crimson. It slides along the silver in a single, sinuous streak as Ventus slowly sags to the floor. Red spit oozes from between his lips. The metallic tang of the blood swamps Roxas' senses. He tries to hold his breath, but that just forces him to swallow blood-tainted air until he feels like screaming.

Axel feels as if the whole world is collapsing around him, crushing his heart.

"_Ventus_!" Axel screams; his voice feels like acid ripping through his throat.

Ventus' eyes roll up in their sockets, dull white orbs. Roxas yanks the blade out, warmth pooling into his palm; the blade coming free with a damp, sucking sound, dripping onto the carpet in a small stain. Blood trickles out of Ventus' nose and mouth.

"_Ventus_!"

Ventus' eyes close, and his body goes limp. One last breath wheezes from his mouth.

Roars of sobs and screams fill from the crewmen and the cloaked figures, like ghosts glide over to the members and hold them all back. Roxas registers Axel's voice most of all, calling him terrible, terrible things past his tear-filled eyes and reddened cheeks. While most of the men rise for the first time, remembering they have legs, Demyx and a couple others stay knelt, their faces red and noses congested.

"Well done, Roxas." Cloud says.

"Shut up." Roxas whispers back. Cloud didn't hear it, or if he did, he didn't do anything about it.

"I'll clean up the body." A man of the Wolf Guild offers.

"No," says Cloud as he takes the sword from Roxas' hand. "My son made the mess. Let him clean it up."

Roxas stares vacantly ahead as Axel and the crewmen are dragged out of the room, still screaming and still roaring with anger. He can see his father from the corner of his eye. Cloud reaches out and touches Roxas' face with his fingers.

"It's for the best, Roxas. Someday, you will understand. And you'll thank me." He says to him.

Something happens inside Roxas. It starts deep down in his chest, a seed of anger. Of revenge. Of hate. Something dark and terrible. And then it explodes, bursting through his lungs through his neck, through his arms and legs. Through his mind. Roxas doesn't even bother to turn his head. He feels his father kiss just above his ear, and Roxas feels like he's going to get sick again.

All the men clear out of the room, leaving Roxas alone. He remains standing before the body. He feels dumb struck, and is on the verge of screaming.

Heavy footsteps enter the room, and approach Roxas. Despite his hairs standing on end, Roxas doesn't move. Lexaeus stands next to him, only looking at Roxas, not even glancing at the body. In a way, Roxas doesn't want him to look, or to even see it.

"I failed." He says, his voice oddly distant. Lexaeus is about to reply, when Roxas turns and moves in a stiff, methodical manner. Lexaeus watches him, all while having a forlorn expression on his face. Roxas opens a closet door filled with spare sheets.

Lexaeus takes a few long steps back as Roxas comes back and kneels before the body, mopping up the blood. He keeps his eyes straight down, afraid of seeing the body the sight of it is so . . . wrong.

Lexaeus rounds to stand behind Roxas and places a hand on his shoulder. Roxas flinches, jerking his arms and ruffling the sheet. "Listen," he kneels down. "I've checked the entire hall. They are all gone."

With that he gets up and walks out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

In the deafening silence, sadness consumes Roxas. He grabs Ventus' lifeless body and pulls him into his arms, ignoring the blood, ignoring the frozen look of death on the boy's face. "I'm sorry." Roxas weeps. "I'm sorry!" Even as he speaks, Roxas realizes his voice is laced with something wrong. Almost insanity. He hugs Ventus close to his chest, squeezing him as tightly as possible, as if that could somehow bring him back, or show thanks for saving his life.

For being his friend when no one else would.

Roxas cries. Weeps like he's never wept before. His great, racking sobs echo through the chamber like the sounds of tortured pain.


	35. Chapter 34

The welt on Roxas' cheek seems to have grown in swelling from his sobs. It throbs not from pain but from the congestion pressure in Roxas' nose.

Back on the ship, Ventus had become a symbol for Roxas – a beacon that somehow he could make everything right in his world. Sleep in the same place more than once. Freely taste food without fear of it being poisoned. Have real friends, recklessly love. Be happy.

But now Ventus is gone. And his limp body to which Roxas still clings, seems a cold talisman – that not only will those dreams of a hopeful future never come to pass, but that life has never been that way the first place. That even in escape, dreary days lay ahead. A life of sorrow.

Roxas lets go of Ventus, slumps backwards and hooked his elbows around his knees. He wipes the tears from his cheeks and rubs his eye, thinking he should be embarrassed but not feeling that way.

Roxas reels in the pain, locking it away deep inside him. The piercing pain of loss is a double-edged blade that Roxas can't bear to touch. How can he grieve for him? Cry for him? Bleed for him inside when it won't change anything?

It won't change anything.

He's _gone_.

Roxas feels no emotion – he is completely numb. Numb until he's made of stone.

_Gone_.

But Roxas isn't gone. He's still here. Uniform smeared with blood, the trust and friendship of the crew in shambles, his only friend lying dead on the floor of his father's study. Ventus is gone, and it's _his_ fault.

The truth is too harsh to touch, and Roxas shies away from it before it sears itself into his brain and becomes real. If he's not real, he's not his own, he's not real.

Somewhere inside him, he hears the anguished wailing – the wordless kneeing of unbearable grief. Roxas will choke on the grief. Sit here impotent, unable to avenge him. Roxas tries to push away the images, scrambles back from the edge of the gaping hole, and lets the darkness within him swallow it all.

The harsh kneeing inside his head becomes muted – the grief of some other boy. Not his.

Roxas doesn't want to feel anymore. Doesn't want to grieve for Ventus. How he longs to be like Ventus. Sweet Ventus. Lie cold on the ground like Ventus. There's room inside for two.

Roxas carefully releases Ventus, carefully laying his body on the carpet as if he is a fair porcelain doll.

Through his grief, untouched by blood and the iron fist of his father, Roxas lets the seed of anger and defiance burrow deep in his heart. Securing it tightly with the images of the torturous nightmares his own father made him go through, along with his scheming behind his back of Axel, Roxas now realizes who it is he can really trust.

His neck throbs slightly form where the needles were injected.

His father did it for his own good. To prove who it is he can really trust. And knows exactly who that is.

What kind of a man would torture his own son just to preserve his reputation, more importantly why did Roxas almost expect it? Because Cloud isn't a man. He's a monster who wants to train Roxas to be the _perfect_ killer. He'll starve Roxas of his own love, affection, friends, and faith . . . everything but the blade and the shadows. He'll force Roxas to bury and numb all emotions until he's made of stone. But not anymore. He needs to get out of here. He refuses to be the heir of the darkness his father beholds.

Looking at all of the blood soaked sheets, Roxas rummages through the closest some more, pulling out fresh ones and delicately placing it over Ventus, but only up to his waist. He then wraps up another one and sets it under Ventus' head as a deflated pillow. Roxas makes choking sobs sounds as he takes his shaking hands and adjusts Ventus' head. Roxas wipes the blood and delicately pats away small spots. A little cleaned up, Ventus almost looks like he' sleeping. Roxas takes a bouquet of Gardena flowers from the vase and sets them on Ventus' chest, overlapping his hands to hold the stems. Roxas brushes a few strands of Ventus' bangs off his forehead and braises the knuckle of his finger along Ventus' cheek.

Roxas then searches through the bookshelves, knowing his father didn't pay much attention to what was placed on it.

He has nearly ripped every books off the shelf when he finally discovers the small bible on the very bottom shelf, tucked away in the corner.

Roxas goes back over to Ventus and kneels before _him_ this time. The soft crackling of the fire help Roxas in blocking out everything else. Roxas doesn't really know what to say, but just holding the thing that is as pure as Ventus makes him feel better. Going back through his thoughts, he tries to remember what it was that certain priests say at funerals for the dead. He recalls a few things that he was forced to listen to while on a mission to murder the wife of said dead person. He listened for over an hour, only tuning in when he thought the man was drawing to a close.

Holy words and quotes of enlightenment pour forth from his lips and Roxas can feel his head getting light again, as if the words are having an effect on him more than Ventus. Tears sting his eyes once more, squeezing out through his clenched eyes. He forces himself to finish one last final phrase he can recall by memory before a choked sob breaks his words. Roxas sets the bible aside and hugs his knees, rocking back and forth to calm himself.

There is a knock at the door, and Roxas doesn't even bother to guess who it is. Other guild members would just barge in, so this has to be Lexaeus.

"Come in." Roxas calls.

The door opens and Roxas forces himself to stand as Lexaeus' heavy footsteps approach. He gives the body a quick glance before fixating his vision on Roxas. In a way, Roxas is appreciative.

"I'll make sure he gets a proper burial." Lexaeus says. It isn't up until this points does he realize what it is that Lexaeus has done. Roxas looks to him, curious.

"You . . . knew?"

Lexaeus nods. "I was hesitant on telling you, because of course you weren't supposed to know."

"Apparently I'm not supposed to know a lot of things around here." Roxas snarls.

"Also, because I support you." Lexaeus says. Roxas looks up bewildered. "You may not be able to see it, but we all can. You're drifting away from your father's teachings and his ideals. It's rejuvenating, and a lot of other guild members feel that his reign has gone on long enough. You've even gained favor of some of the guild leaders."

Terra. Leon. Zexion. Lexaeus. Roxas feels dread course through his stomach. "What would make you turn on him? You're his most trusted advisor. A true honor." Roxas says.

Lexaeus laughs. "Honor? We thieves have no honor. At least not with your father." He shakes his head and licks his lips. "When I joined the Shadow Guild, I was in a bad spot. My son died, all because I couldn't afford for the priests to heal him. My wife blamed it on me, and for good reason. I was lazy. Unreliable. I drank, I slept in alleys, and when I was at my lowest, Cloud found me. Something about him, the way he conducts himself, it's both terrifying and inspiring, and it awoke a fire in me that never died. I climbed the ranked, not because I was better, but because I worked harder than anyone else. I gave the guild everything of me, and Cloud aw it and rewarded me accordingly. He lies that, Roxas, you know that. It's because he's the same way. Nothing matters beyond the narrow focus, the narrow goal, and lately I was watching that goal be crafting you into something terrible. Watching what Cloud was doing to you, slowly, methodically killing everything good in his own son . . ."

Lexaeus shook his head.

"I used to think all this backstabbing and thieving was just a game. We were all crooks, all worthless scum, so who really cares if we killed each other trying to rob rich men who would rather die than lost a single copper? I thought your father was the best at the game, a man who could have been a god at anything he chose, only he chose a criminal empire to be his legacy. He would be servant to none, slave to no system, no laws. At times it was fun, the coin was great, the women easy . . . but this has gone on too long. Whatever charm Cloud had, it's slowly died over these past five years. And now to watch as he would deny _you_ a childhood, deny you friends, deny you a life . . . And now just from hearing you scream from that, serum . . ."

Lexaeus glances at the door.

"No man could do that to his own son. Only a monster, and I won't be a part of his lair anymore. After this, I'm done. I don't expect much in the way of eternity, but maybe the gods will forgive me if I get myself out while there's still time. Looks like I wasn't alone in thinking that too."

Roxas' cheeks lifted, and Lexaeus feels a flutter of his heart at the sight of the boy smiling.

"Now listen, there is . . . something else." Lexaeus delicately says. "It's all depending on if you want to see it.

Roxas' smiles fades instantly and Lexaeus feels guilty about telling the boy, but he needs to see as a form of, affirming motivation and as a reminder to whom the enemy really is.

"It's down in the infirmary." He adds.

"Okay."

"Uh Master Roxas, perhaps you would like a change of clothing?" Lexaeus suggests.

Roxas looks to Lexaeus in confusion for a moment before slowly tucking his head towards his chest.

His chest is covered in rust-scented crimson.

Covered.

Bile rises at the back of Roxas' throat, but he swallows it and gags. "No. Not yet." he says. "It's less than I deserve."

"Very well. I'll take care of the bod -" Lexaeus clears his throat. "You're friend."

Roxas nods. "Thanks."

Taking his cloak, Roxas drapes it around his shoulders ad reminds himself to change clothes before going down to the dungeons. If he's going to convince Axel to run away and rebel with him, having Ventus' blood on his clothing won't be too convincing.

But at least Roxas, understands now. About Axel and his mother's murder. Or perhaps in a way, they're even. No, Roxas can't do that. Axel's was an accident, Roxas was forced. Maybe that's why Roxas is more, understanding of it. Axel didn't mean to kill, and neither did Roxas. Only now, Roxas can't even forgive himself. Even if Axel doesn't forgive him, Roxas still wants to break him out and run away with him. It sounds . . . fantasy induced, but Roxas just wants to leave and keep Axel alive.

Ventus' death wasn't in vain Roxas needs to get Axel and the others out of here. It won't be easy. Anyone who turns against his father winds up dead. Roxas assures that even now, he is a target. Or perhaps he already is. Before he goes down to face this new life, though, he takes some time making himself acknowledge what it will mean. Beforehand, Roxas was prepared to head into the deeper realms of Cloud's Guild kingdom as heir, the new ruler. A determined venture at best. But now he is committing to something even more risky. Fighting against his own father and assure his reign of terror and blood ends. With it, Roxas must accept that he will be killed at any moment. He will be walking down the street, like always, and a band of the Shadow Guild men will haul him away. There might be torture. Mutilation. A dagger to his chest in the middle of town if he's fortunate enough to go that quickly. Although his father has limitless ways in creativity when it comes to killing people. Roxas can imagine these things, and he is terrified, but let's face it: He's most likely seen everything by now. With all the blood and hallucinations brought on by the mermaid venom, and his father's new similar serum. He's seen it all, and he's already a target. Always has been.

The harder part of it is that facing the fact that Axel and the others will share the same fate. He failed at protecting Ventus, but Roxas knows that Ventus would want Roxas to try and help Axel as a form of forgiveness for his sin of murder. Roxas tries to keep this thought in mind, keep in mind on what Ventus would want. He can still avenge him.

Roxas heads down the hall, starting off with a paced walk, then growing faster and faster until he's sprinting down with his arms pumping with the rhythm of his heart. He catches a glimpse of the clock and finds it to be one fifteen now. It was midnight last he checked. He had sent Axel to be executed at dawn. Five thirty. He has four hours. Time isn't on his side.

His feet pound against the carpet as Roxas speeds through the antechambers and down the stairs into the east hall where the infirmary dominates most of the area. The carpeted floor turns to hard wood, his boots clicking now.

Suddenly Roxas skids to a halt when he sees Terra leaning against the wall that leads to the recovery ward. He has his arms folded, and his cloak is gone. Roxas can't recall the last time Roxas had seen Terra without a cloak, if ever.

His brown hair reaches to the base of his neck in the back and is styled into rather messy, vertical spikes and bangs that frame his face. He has blue eyes and slightly tanned skin.

With his cloak discarded, Terra wears two intersecting straps over his chest, dropping much lower down and almost resembling crisscrossed suspenders. He wears a gold badge on his obi, a skintight, black, high-collared shirt that shows he is rather muscular. Terra's pants bear a distinct feudal style; his belt is tied like an obi-sash and he wears hakama – which Roxas learned is a traditional samurai pants distinguished by the large pleats. They are dark grey near the top, with several loops for his belt and two buttons, both of which are undone. The rest of the pants are tan with a small, lighter stripe of tan on the bottom hem. Then his left arm is significantly more armored. The armor has a large, gold ornate crest and long, segmented section - each segment alternating between dark grey and dark red - reaching all the way to the bottom of his hand. He also wears a black, fingerless glove on his hand and what appears to be a black gauntlet on his forearm, over the segmented armor, which also has small pieces of dark red armor on it.

His head lifts to Roxas and his lips press into a tight line. The rustic scent of the blood wafts up from his nose, and Roxas holds his breath. There's something else about Terra's facial expression. It shows slight surprise, perhaps? Roxas assumes that whatever that weird serum did to him, must've left him with some strange and subtle differences. Bags under the eyes, gaunt cheeks, and maybe pale skin.

"I'm assuming Lexaeus told you." says Terra.

"He told me just to come." Roxas answers.

Terra exhales with his nose, almost like the huffing of a horse. "Alright."

He pushes off the walls and opens one of the double swinging doors that leads to the recovery rooms. Roxas doesn't bother asking any questions since Terra's acting like an escort. Doors come up on their left and right at odd intervals, and they turn a right, and then a left before Terra stops in front of room 201. He places his hand on the knob and turns to Roxas.

"Just so you know, he's been here for five hours. Now that he's stable, it'll be the first time he's woken up. "

Roxas' body grows numb, and tingles with a feeling of goose pimples. Terra opens the door and steps inside, holding the door for Roxas. Stepping inside, the room is the size of an average bedroom with a window. The bed is pushed against the wall, headboard first, with two end tables on either side. One holds a metal tray Roxas' hands begin to shake when the curtain is pulled out and around one side of the bed. As Roxas approaches, Terra walks up and softly pulls the curtain aside.

A small gasp escapes Roxas and he quickly claps his hands over his mouth.

Vanitas is lying on the bed with tubes poking in his left arm up to an IV pouch dripping a clear liquid. His clothes are folded on a chair next to the bed, and he wear only a crispy hospital gown. A grey neck brace collar wraps around his neck, and gathers the skin of his cheeks, making him appear pudgy. His eyes are closed, hair resting against the pillow, almost in sleep.

Roxas slowly comes up to the bed, his eyes trailing along Vanitas' face, the bed sheet covering the lower half of his body. Trying to control the shaking of his hand, Roxas extends it out and gently place sit on Vanitas', of which has a grey, plastic wristband around it.

Vanitas' eyes flutter open, and Roxas almost cries out when he sees they're slightly pink from lack of oxygen. They first open up to the ceiling, and they blink a few times. Roxas hopes that each time he blinks his eyes will return to normal, but of course they don't.

"Vanitas." Roxas whimpers.

Then they flick to Roxas, and just as Roxas is about to open his lips to say something else, Vanitas eyes widen in fear and he inhales sharply, emanating a horrid wheezing sound. His hand retracts back and he begins to quickly wheeze in and out, thirsty for air. His voice sounds similar to nails on a chalkboard or dragging rustic metal. Roxas startles back, jerking his hand away and his heart jarring in his chest. He takes a clumsy step back, Terra bumping into him as he advances forward. Vanitas is clawing at the collar with frantic fingers, trying to get it off when Terra takes his wrists and talks to him in a calming voice.

"Hey, hey. Vanitas, no." Terra says as he tries to keep Vanitas from ripping at the collar. "No, you can't claw at it. Listen, you're in the infirmary. You've been out since six o'clock."

_Six o'clock? That was dinner time_. Roxas thinks. He looks to the clock. It's one thirty-five. How is it that Roxas never even put into thought where Vanitas was since he hadn't seen him since dinner? How come it never occurred to him? Yes he had training, and yet his mind never even noticed something was missing. Guilt suddenly presses on Roxas' shoulders at his stupidity and all he wants to do is kneel by Vanitas' bed and beg for him for forgiveness.

Vanitas' breathing calms as Terra coos to him. "You're going to be okay. Roxas is here to see you."

Vanitas finally calms, his wheezing slowing and his arms relaxing. Terra stands back and to the side, allowing Roxas to approach. Roxas gives an inconspicuous shake of his head. Terra nods and ushers Roxas forward. With his hand held against his chest, Roxas timidly comes up to the bed once more. Vanitas is already looking at him, his pink eyes blinking and the ember color seemingly dull, as if someone had sucked the light and vibrancy out of them. Vanitas' looks shocked when he sees the blood staining Roxas' chest. But still he holds out his hand, palm up, and Roxas takes it without hesitation, sitting on the small wooden stool next to the bed.

"Van . . ." Roxas snivels.

Vanitas opens his mouth, ready to say something, but terra interrupts. "Ah, ah. Don't try to talk. You need to sustain your voice."

Roxas looks to Terra with sorrowful eyes. "Who did this?"

Terra swallows and averts his eyes for a second. "Your father."

Roxas' eyes slowly trail down and away before he turns his head back to Vanitas. "I should've guessed." He whispers. Terra watches as Roxas strokes Vanitas' thumb with his own. "What's the damage?"

"Well the main concerns: damage to his spinal cord, airway, veins, and arteries have been allayed. He now has bruising, hoarseness, a sore larynx, and he may have a possible little cough afterwards. Other than that it's not to be worried about. He still has his voice." Terra says.

"How long until he can speak again?" Roxas asks.

"At best assumption, about two more days." Terra answers.

Roxas wants to almost laugh. _Is that all_? The guilt becomes heavier. He wants to ask Vanitas so many questions first starting off what it is that happened when his father tried to choke him to death. A featherlike touch against his cheek causes Roxas to jerk his head up. He didn't realize he had dropped his head down to the bed, and Vanitas' finger strokes along his cheek.

Looking at him, tears fill Roxas' eyes as he finds Vanitas softly smiling. Images of Ventus' death flash through Roxas' mind and a sob chokes him as it forces its way past his lips. He drops his head down to the bed again, hunching his back. He breaks down into tears.

He feels Vanitas' hand slip from his own and go to pat his head. Roxas sobs some more and feels Vanitas pull his head up to his torso. Roxas looks at Vanitas through his tears; even though he's blurry, his expression shows concern. Roxas only shakes his head and Vanitas motions Roxas forward. Roxas climbs into the bed, careful not to apply any pressure on any parts of his body. Seeing Vanitas in the hospital bed, it seems as though he's so, fragile.

Roxas curls up next to Vanitas, feeling his arm wrap around him. Roxas rests his head in the crevice of Vanitas' arm and his chest, now wanting to go anywhere near his neck.

"I'll leave you to catch up." Terra says before he leaves.

Alone in the room with Vanitas, curled up on his bed while his hand plays with Roxas' hair. He strokes the back while trying to angle his face to see without putting much strain on his neck. Roxas snuggles down and tries to stifle his sobs. He shakes in Vanitas' arms. Vanitas wraps his other arm around Roxas and rubs his shoulder.

Roxas tries to calm himself since Vanitas can't talk. While Terra told him it's not permanent, Roxas can't help but treat Vanitas like he's actually lost his voice since the last time they spoke was in the dining hall seven hours ago. It's only when Roxas reminds himself that he doesn't have much time before Axel's execution does he force himself to calm down and explain everything to Vanitas.

Roxas pushes himself up and help Vanitas into a sitting position. Roxas wipes his eyes and sniffles, grabbing a tissue and blowing his nose. Vanitas strokes Roxas' arm and up to his chin. Placing his thumb below Roxas lips, Roxas sniffles and wipes his eyes again. Vanitas' hand moves up to Roxas' ear, and Roxas doesn't fight when Vanitas brings his head down. Placing his lips on the center of Roxas' forehead, Roxas lets his eyes shut as he feels the warmth of them on his skin.

"We need to get out of here." Roxas says.

Vanitas raises his eyebrows in curiosity. Roxas breathes and tries to force himself to make the words. He starts from when he was scheduled to go to the infirmary for a false checkup. How his father had used it so that he could simply sneak down into the dungeon to drag out Demyx, and torture him through whippings; upon which Roxas intervened and got the nasty swelling mark on his cheek. Vanitas strokes it with his knuckles and gives a small smile. Roxas interprets it as him saying: Nice, I wish I could've seen it bigger." Going on from there, he tells of the long, dark secret that Axel has kept and most likely didn't even think about bothering to tell Roxas. Vanitas' eyes widen and his brows rise in such surprise it leaves creases on his forehead. Roxas nods, but then shakes his head at the heated expression on Vaintas' face.

"I thought the same thing. But it wasn't his fault." Roxas says before Vanitas can place a permanent seed of blackmail or loathing towards Axel. "I understand that now?"

Vanitas quirks an eyebrow in doubt.

"At least with him it was by accident." Roxas says. "Mine wasn't." Vanitas sits up more and leans with his elbows resting on his knees, folded in pretzel-style. His eyes boil with eagerness and demand. Roxas' eyes water once more and he quickly blinks them away; already growing aggravated with himself for breaking down every time he thinks about Ventus. Roxas takes a deep breath, pinching the inside of his thighs. "My father had the men lined up in the study. He cast a truth spell on them as a way to make them tell the truth when they've been telling it the entire time. And then . . . then when he told me to kill Ventus I . . ." Roxas stops to take another breath as his eyes water once more. "I refused, at first. But then he threw me onto the table, and he had one of the men inject me with some newly developed serum." Roxas mimics the pushing of the plunger of the syringe as he explains, his eyes staring blankly at a crumpling of the bed sheet, using the blank canvas to help him picture it all. He seems to calm more as he explains the serum since it's stating facts more than talking about emotional experiences. "Said it was supposed to be like the mermaid's venom. And, after going through the, hallucinations, I awoke. And then, when he ordered me to kill him again, Ventus . . . he was actually smiling, and . . . he forgave me."

Vanitas' eyebrows furrow into disbelief and sympathy.

"And I did it."

Vanitas places a hand over his mouth and looks at Roxas with wounded eyes. Roxas avoids his gaze, but sniffles and swallows thickly. Vanitas places a hand on Roxas' shoulder and gives it a firm grip. Roxas folds his lips in and chokes back a sob. He goes and takes more deep breaths to try and calm himself as his heart starts to jackrabbit jump.

"And now, I want to get out. I _need_ to get out." says Roxas. Vanitas nods. "My father said that he did it all for my own good. So that I can know who it is I really trust. And now I do."

Vanitas can't help but feel uneasy at the sight of Roxas' eyes when he talks about the thick distain for his father now. His eyes darken and his face takes on a whole new expression, as if he's willing to do anything and everything if it means the end of his father. His newly compassion is instantly shielded behind his steely determination along with a cold, hard lust for revenge.

"And I'm not the only one." Roxas says, though his voice now has nearly dropped to a whisper. Vanitas now has to lean in to hear what Roxas is saying, but he quickly understands that the certain angle could seem like Roxas is simply nuzzling his ear. "There's been talk of rebellion against my father. The other guild members feel similar as us." Vanitas smiles and squeezes his eyes shut to mimic like Roxas is nibbling his ear. "They feel he's been in power long enough. Worst of all, they still want me to be in charge and take over his rein, but under my own rule. I don't know what to do, and all I'm focusing on is getting us all out of here. Alive."

Vanitas nods and gives a breathy laugh as he leans away. He nods his head.

"We have a few guild members and leaders willing to follow us. Hopefully it won't be so bad." Roxas says louder.

As Vanitas nods, the door to the room opens and in steps Terra. "My apologizes Master Roxas but, visiting hours are over." He says.

Roxas looks at the clock and finds it to be five past two now. His heart starts to beat faster and he quickly gets off the bed. He turns to Vanitas. "I'll see you at five thirty."

Just as he's finished speaking, Vaintas' lips are pressed against Roxas' and Roxas is momentary frozen, taken by surprise. His eyes are wide, Vaintas' closed in dream. He pulls away and licks the corner of his mouth, and nods towards Roxas.

Normally Roxas would've slapped him if it weren't for the neck brace and also because while that happened, Roxas' mind flashed for a brief moment imagining it was Axel's lips. The thought both hurts and excites him.

He misses Axel. More than he thought he would.

The slap of humiliation Roxas always felt every time he thought about him is gone. In its place, he sees Axel sacrificing sleep so he can be there for Roxas as he deals with hallucinations of venom. Offering to teach Roxas how to use a gun and helping him advance his further knowledge of sea life. Treating Roxas like a human being despite his sketchy past and known habit to betray ad bleed. Axel is the lodestone Roxas wants to cling to when grief over Ventus' and fear for his own life threaten to rob Roxas of what little hope he has left.

Roxas simply blinks and nods back before leaving the infirmary with Terra. As they walk down the halls, Roxas mapping out the route to his bedroom for a change of clothing, his thoughts drift to what Axel might be doing right now. Probably cursing Roxas' name in vain.

Yet Roxas can't deny the fact that something inside him has awakened and only responds to Axel. As he walks with Terra down the hallway, their shoes slowly go from clicking to muffled thumps on the carpet, Roxas presses his fingers to his lips as he remembers Axel's kisses, his breath fanning Roxas' face, his eyes locked on Roxas' mouth. A delicious ache pulses through Roxas. He feels like a stranger waking up in his own skin – aware of every inch. Heat runs through his veins, both exhilarating and terrifying.

Exhilarating because every part of him tingles with life.

But terrifying because beneath the longing is the inescapable truth: If Axel is his lodestone, it's because somehow in the last few weeks Roxas has started to rely on him. Lean on him. Need him. Roxas' heart pounds a little faster as the realization sinks in.

Roxas needs Axel.

Not because he needs saving. Not because he can use Axel a form of useless toy in a game. But because on some basic, soul-deep level within him, Axel is the solid ground beneath Roxas' feet. He has showed Roxas something that he never thought he would see. He has brought to life what Roxas thought was dead in him long ago. Axel is the one who will move mountains to keep his promises. The one who looks at Roxas and _sees_.

Now Roxas can't imagine a life without him.

Everywhere Roxas looks, he's there. A constant thread binding his past, his present, and the future Roxas wants so badly to have.

With _him_.

Roxas' head jerks up.

He's in love with Axel.

Not the way most girls are, when they offer their hearts to their men. That kind of love is uncomplicated and innocent, designed for a simple life. The love consuming Roxas now is fierce and absolute – forged in a crucible of loss and united by their shared strength.

_I love Axel_. A laugh bubbles up, even as tears sting Roxas' eyes. He reaches up and strokes the finger knuckle of his pointer finger across his lips, the feeling so tingly and soft, and holds the vibrant thought as he charges into his bedroom.

Within the span of five minutes, Roxas is given a new set of clothes. Something suitable for his new 'rebellious' look. A black short-sleeve shirt where the collar comes down in a V-shape to show off Roxas' tattoo, and a pair of skintight pants and slide beneath Roxas' leather boots. He has left his torn cloak behind and exchanged it for the leather jacket, newly washed and cleaned ever since he used it to clean up Demyx's bloody back. He still keeps all his weapons strapped to his waist and tugs the collar up to his ears.

The smell of the dungeon is the first thing that reaches Roxas' senses as he descends deeper down the stairs. It's occurred to him over and over that Axel might not feel the same way towards Roxas anymore, the thought alone scaring him more than anything. Or perhaps even if he does, will all he picture is Ventus whenever he's around Roxas? His chest tightens. Axel had already declared his love to Roxas, of which Roxas just brushed off assuming that they weren't true. But now, looking back, experiencing the feeling that Axel had – or hopefully still has – Roxas knows there is not denying it. He doesn't know much about love, so he's still not even sure how it all works. He's never had proper parental guidance with the subject of love, as it was treated like the ultimate secret of the guild. And apart from Lexaeus' jokes about women, Roxas has no firm basis of how love really works. Does the female always do the cleaning while the male hunts and goes to work? Do women normally sew dresses instead of fighting with weapons?

As Roxas enters through the first black iron gate leading down into the dungeon, he eagerly pushes the thought away and focuses more on how he's going to convince Axel to run away with him.

Ever since Ventus' murder in the study, Axel fought like a raging animal as the guards had to forcefully half drag and half carry him down the corridors before tossing Axel to the cold stone ground of the cells. It was a struggle for Axel to get to his feet with his broken rib and bruising, but now the task seems nearly impossible. Not only because Axel feels he might've broken a finger or two, but because now even the simplest of tasks seem useless and difficult.

He spent the better part of his healing time curled up on his side, rocking back and forth, with his knees tucked close to his chest, in near contact with his chin.

Now, he no longer knows what time it is. He's been lying on the damp, gritty floor of the cell for hours. Pain is his constant companion. A chill sweeps into him from the stone floor he lies on, and even with thick comforter Roxas gave him, Axel still shivers. Nuzzling his cheek into the thick blanket, Axel recognizes the scent. Wet dew drops and spring lilies. Roxas.

Axel's chest aches. A part of him wants to hate the boy, wish upon him the most gruesome and unforgettable death he can imagine, but at the same time he can't. Not because he's already content with his affections for the boy, but also because Roxas didn't have much a choice. His own father had him detained and he forced Roxas through a series of probably horrific images just to prove his reputation true in the eyes of Axel and his crew. The thought of Roxas wailing about with his wrists and ankles restrained, screaming and begging for the torture to end is more than Axel can handle. But he can' deny that a part of him still holds disdain for the boy just because he is the one who killed Ventus in the first place. It's false and unfair reasoning, Axel knows this. But his anger is so fierce and impulsive that he almost needs a form of fact in order to keep it contained and his logic sensible.

Axel decides to force himself to stand up and walk. Loosen the muscles. Promote faster healing.

Axel inhales slowly, trying to keep from pressing his lungs against his rib cage with too much force, and places his palms flat on the floor in front of him.

His body shakes as he slowly pushes himself to his hands and knees, inch by torturous inch. Grey dots swirl in front of his limited vision, and his empty stomach rebels against the waves of dizziness swamping him.

It's clear he is in no shape to gain his freedom.

It's a devastating though, but he can't hang on to it for long. Heat is eating away at his brain, blurring the edges of reality until Axel can't tell if the contents of his head are memories, dreams or wisps of things not worth the effort it takes to force them into something that makes sense.

He can't stand without help. Crawling towards the wall is a slow, agonizing process, and Axel stops frequently o rest, lying his face against the filthy stone floor and shivering both from external cold and the internal heat that blazes through his head but refuses to warm his body. Axel's body shakes as he forces himself to keep crawling. Keep moving. Keep pushing his muscles to work through the bruises because _he'll_ come back. And Axel refuses to be killed by him.

When Axel reaches the wall sometime later, he discovers his nose is bleeding. He doesn't know how long that's been going on, and he decides he doesn't care.

From a distance, he hears the main dungeon door open, and Axel knows he should be afraid, but that takes too much effort. Instead, Axel digs his fingers into the rugged texture of the wall beside him, and pulls himself to his feet.

The room spins in slow, sickening circles. Axel tries to breathe through the nausea it creates, but dragging air into his lungs ignites the terrible pain in his side.

Someone is walking along the row between cells. Axel doesn't know who it is. He can't seem to turn his head to look. Instead, Axel leans his forehead against the cold stone of the wall and shakes uncontrollably.

The fire eats away at his brain, and all he can think about is sunlight. Like flames. Flames pounding at the inside of his skull. There's no way Axel can cure this fever. And he doubts the guards will give him any.

Axel bangs his head against the wall to put out the flames, but they just multiply.

_Move. _

_I have to move_.

If he doesn't he will kill Axel before he can escape.

Axel slides one foot in front of him, but it wobbles, and Axel has to hand on to the wall to keep from falling over.

Someone opens the main door to the dungeon. The noise explodes inside Axel's head, sending brutal hammers of pain into his temples. Axel lets go of the wall to cover his ears, and pitches forward onto the unforgiving stone floor.

Footsteps comes Axel's way, and he tries to reach for his gun. It isn't there, and the motion triggers the pain in his side until he's gasping air in quick, shallow breaths.

The owner of the footsteps reaches his cell and stops. Axel's curls into himself, using his arm to cushion his head. He's not facing the front of the cell, so he can't see who it is. But the soft scent of dew drops seeps through the stench of his cell and makes Axel want to close his eyes and pretend he's near a pond. Safe. Free. Lying safe on a bed of crushed grass while the pin in his body subsides into nothing but memory, and the one he loves is still alive and well.

"Axel." Roxas' soft voice says in a hushed tone.

Axel assumes he's dreaming. He must be. Roxas wouldn't be down here walking freely among the dungeon. Especially now since he's killed Ventus. Axel's mind has cooked up a fantasy, and if he doesn't snap out of it, whoever is truly outside his cell with him will kill Axel before he can regain strength.

"Axel." Roxas' voice says again. "It's me."

After this the shadow in front of his cell moves. Axel's eyes widen, knowing Roxas can't see since his head is turned not to mention Axel's hair is covering his eyes. Axel stays still to mimic sleep.

Roxas turns to Demyx, his cell across the aisle, who has also recovered well from Zexion's treatment. Demyx cocks his head to the side and notions Roxas to keep trying. Roxas feels his heart sink as his thoughts have been realized that Axel doesn't want anything to do with Roxas anymore.

Roxas sighs and turns to face Axel's cell. He takes a deep breath and sighs. "Axel, I will not ask your forgiveness. Because what I've done to you, is truly unforgivable." Roxas takes a breath, but it rattles as it goes in. "For years, I was so lost in anger and hatred. But you, Axel. My sweet Axel . . ." Roxas' voice catches in his throat. "You stole what was left of my heart. But now I've lost you forever."

Axel shifts his head slightly, not noticed by Roxas. Demyx folds his lips in and blinks away his watery eyes. The tears overflow once more and they sear heat down Roxas' raw cheeks. His left one still slightly inflated by the welt. Roxas kneels down in front of Axel's cell, gripping the rusty bars.

"I know it won't mean much, but I swear I am going to get you out of here." Roxas promises. "And no further harm will come to you as long as I live."

Axel's eyes flick all around his cell, his heart beating fast at the softness and quaking of Roxas' voice. He has to be crying. Axel needs to try and find a way to see him. His anger at the boy diminishes quickly along with the flames inside his head.

He hears Roxas' quaking inhale. "I . . . I love you, Axel."

Axel's body crawls with goose bumps.

"You showed me something that no one else ever would. And I am going to spend the rest of my life proving myself worthy of yours." Roxas breathes.

Roxas releases the bars and pushes himself to his feet. He gives Axel's cell one last glance before he turns away. He has only gotten two steps away when he hears his voice.

"I love you too Roxas."

Roxas whirls around and finds Axel gripping the bars in what looks like for dear life. His face battered and bruised, dried blood smeared around his nose. Roxas swallow back a sob as Axel smiles at him.

"And I always will."

Roxas' legs collapse as he glides back over to the cell, placing his hands over Axel's; his eyes watering again. "Even though I can never redeem myself to you?"

"I know you can never bring him back. I also know that you didn't have a choice." says Axel. "But you have to understand, that nothing you could ever do in this world could make me see you, or love you any different than the way I do now."

Axel reaches a shaking hand through the bars and Roxas leans in, pressing his cheek into Axel's dirtied palm, not caring. Axel can feel Roxas' cheeks are wet from tears and he brushes his thumb across. Roxas opens his eyes and the glimmer an almost . . . baby blue color. Not their confident deep sapphire that Axel is so used to seeing. It's as if Roxas has been reduced back to a five-year-old child. His lip quivers and Axel wants nothing more than to embrace the boy and kiss him forever.

"You may think yourself a burden to this world; but you _truly_ are, one of god's own creations for me." Axel breathes, his eyes watering.

Roxas breaks down, nuzzling into Axel's hand, seizing it with his own. He sniffles and sobs, his body wrecking as he starts to make exaggerated hiccup noises. Roxas curls into himself and presses himself against the bars, the only things that separate the two.

Roxas is dressed in a jacket and jeans, something different from his cloak and tunics. He looks something of his own. A new image with no coloration with Cloud. He seems like his own person now, and Axel finds it . . . sexy.

After a minute, Roxas stops and wipes his cheeks with the heel of his palm. He reaches down and pulls out a thin round container. "Here." Roxas also then pulls out a syringe with a clear liquid inside. "The serum will help with the pain, and the medicine will help with your fever."

Axel takes it with shaking hands and sets it carefully on the floor of the cage. "What about the guards?"

"Done. I've got new . . . friends." Roxas shyly smiles.

"What?"

"I can't explain it now. But I will once we get out." Roxas affirms. "Hopefully that'll hold you over until dawn."

"What will happen?" Axel asks as he starts to unscrew the lid to the container.

""Guards" will come down here and take you up to what will be your execution." Roxas explains. "But we're going to break out and flee this place."

"Where will we go?" Axel asks in concern. "This is your father we're talking about. And he has connections."

Roxas takes a deep breath and spares a quick glance to Demyx.

"We go to the Faceless." Roxas says.

"What -?!"

A bang at the door at the end of the hall startles everyone.

"I'd better go." Roxas says as he gets up.

"Wait, are you sure about this?" Axel says grabbing Roxas' wrist.

"No. But I know that I need to get you out of here." Roxas says.

He crouches down and manages to places a kiss on Axel's lips. The sensation brief but exhilarating. He draws back, Axel with still a concern expression.

"I will see you at dawn."

Then Roxas gets up and quickly walks down the corridor, leaving the dungeon. A fire of rebellion sparking in his chest.


	36. Chapter 35

Pulling his jacket tight around his shoulders, Roxas fast walks through the mansion. He finds a grandfather clock and finds the time to be two forty in the morning. He still has three hours before Axel's alleged execution. He can only hope that the men of the Lion and Wolf Guilds can keep their promises. Then again if their own leaders can turn rebel, hopefully their loyalties can as well. Supposedly this is a better cause, but Roxas doesn't have the slightest clue on how to lead a rebellion; especially one against his own father and that the warriors consist of men who steal, lie and deceive. What's even more troubling is that he's simply leaving one assassin group for another. It's not much of a transition, but for now, until he has a stable army behind him Roxas will have to take what he can. After his first encounter with the Faceless, it's clear they are more advanced than his father, and they're the only source of safety that they have. It'll be complicated since Roxas still has little to no information about them; and with Vanitas voiceless for the next couple of days, Roxas is going to have to do some digging himself.

Roxas can feel his insides torn between taking a nap for the next couple hours or to head to the library to do his research, or to head down to the intersection Lexaeus mentioned. He said to meet him when he was finished, and though Roxas is curious, he fears that by the time he gets there it'll be too late to get back. So he decides to save it as the checkpoint of where they go when they escape the mansion. When was the last time he slept? Let alone sleep a full night. Passing an empty bedroom, Roxas walks in and immediately climbs into bed. Back as a kid, after his training, Roxas would be so fatigue he wouldn't want to bother trying to walk up all the stairs to get to his bedroom, so he would fall asleep randomly around several areas of the house; thankfully if someone were to see him asleep they wouldn't find it strange, plus this is the study closest to the dungeon. Should something not go according to plan, Roxas will be able to hear it.

When his head hits the pillow, Roxas tugs the collar of his jacket up to his ears and brings the corners up under his nose and relaxes. He must fall asleep because when his eyes open, he finds himself staring at a grey ceiling with a giant crack spreading across it. Fissures branch out from it across the entire ceiling. His wrists are bound to a metal table by cuffs and his heartbeat increases. The fissures increase in size and spread wide until they mimic the jagged mouth of a monster. Inside, Roxas can see Ventus standing and reaching out for him. As Roxas tries to call, the fissures crack and open wide, and the entire ceiling collapses in. Dirt and stone fills his mouth and infects his lungs where he feels it turn to stone, weighing his chest down until he can't draw the slightest breath. Before the last of the falling debris swallows the light, Roxas sees Ventus standing off somewhere safe and his eyes are dark empty sockets of black hatred. "You didn't protect me." he says, and he turns away and starts walking. Roxas screams and tries to wriggle himself free, but the dirt molds and holds him place and continues to pour into his mouth. He feels it dry his throat and reduce his tongue to sandpaper.

Roxas wakes with a start. The first thing he feels is how hot and sweaty his entire body is, but his mouth is dry and he panics. Roxas scrambles off the bed and stumbles into the bathroom where he gulps down as much water as he can muster. After the fifth glass, he feels full and pulls off his jacket and can feel his both gasp in gratitude as the cold air sears across his arms. Despite the goose bumps spreading across his skin, Roxas stays like this, running his wrists under cold water and fears he will convulse again. When he calms down, he takes deep breaths and takes a towel after running it under cold water and pats his face, then settling it on his neck.

Even though his body begs him to tear off his sweaty clothes, Roxas grabs his jacket and heads back into the room and sits back down on the bed. His cheek seems to be entering its final stages of healing, his shoulder wound long forgotten since its mended. The only bright side is that the nightmare had startled him awake at least forty-five minutes prior to five o'clock. A part of Roxas feels relived, another part of him wanting to sprint down to the dungeon to see if Axel and the crew are still accounted for.

A part of Roxas wishes so badly for his memory or imagination to stop doing whatever it's doing and grant him one night's peace. When Roxas was a kid during the Harvest Festival, whenever he would see the decorations around the houses, he would always be scared, and if he were to have a nightmare, he would have it once and it would be done. He always assumed that they go away because after the nightmare, it's as if they've had their fun and then Roxas sort of conquered the fear. It hasn't happened with these yet. They tend to decrease in intensity, but still they're memorable and they leave Roxas curled in a fetal position, sweaty and scared and shaking.

Ruffling his hair, Roxas sits for two more minutes before shrugging on his jacket again and heading down the hallway. He keeps his hand on his gun as he walks, the feeling of the cold cylindrical metal making him feel more protected. Not even his father can predict the speed and accuracy of a bullet.

Making his way down towards the rose garden, where the gallows are – in cruel irony – Roxas peeks all around him, scanning his perimeters for pursuers. It's strange to do since he's in a house filled with thieves, but this time the house is divided of those supporting his father, and then supporting Roxas. It's almost refreshing to have a solid source of enemies in the house now, a distinctive difference between the loyal and the mutineers. Calling them traitors seems rather counterintuitive since it's been clearly declared that his father is the enemy by more than one. Roxas hasn't disqualified the idea that his fellow insurgents could be using him to turn against Cloud, just to stab Roxas in the back as well and end the reign of Cloud's dynasty in a whole. But then again that can throw the guilds into disarray without his father's iron-fisted rule to keep people in order, and it could make all the streets tainted with blood as each guildleader tries to step up and take the place of Cloud or Roxas. It's a rather sad loss, but what worries Roxas the most is how little he cares about it. All he can picture is him and Axel, together, alone in a field of beautiful wild flowers; the wafting smell of sundried grass affiliates the air and all Roxas has instead of weapons is a crown of flowers and Axel lying beside him on a hill. And as they lay there, if the guilds want to rip each other and the city apart, he doesn't care and it fills him with joy at thought of not having to worry.

But he can't do that with the bounty still on his head, and frankly nowhere safe for him and Axel's crew to hide. With his father's connections, they will find him. Only the Faceless are out of his father's reach and extent of knowledge and only they can help Roxas, if they chose to. If they don't, Roxas will just have to take their chances in the wilderness.

The thought alone reminds Roxas that he should've prepared better for betraying the guild and fighting against his father. He should've packed bombs or something, poisoned arrows instead of his short sword, his gun and his daggers. He's pretty much planning on winging the whole thing, or hope that his rebels have improvised something, but again, his focus is getting Axel and the crew out alive at whatever the cost.

Passing by a window, the sky is starting the push back the curtain of night with its colors of blue grows lighter against the deep velvet backdrop. Roxas quickens his pace and soon he enters the glass corridor that leads to the garden.

The smelling of blossoms and moist air fills his nose and Roxas blindly but attentively navigates his way through the many mazelike tunnels. With the area mentally mapped out, Roxas' heart beats faster as his mind begins to become paranoid. What if his father decided early for the execution? What if it's already done and Roxas failed again like he did Ventus? Shaking his head harshly, Roxas watches his feet as he makes a left at the end of the tunnel.

He comes to the gallows and finds a small gathering rather than the crowd. Roxas' feels his heart sink, but a small piece of him is glad that nothing has happened yet; allegedly. Roxas quickens his pace and tries to look for a familiar face, but sees none. And seeing how he doesn't know which men are still loyal to his father, Roxas will have to trust his gut feeling. As he scours the crowd, a hand suddenly grabs his wrist. Before he can bring his elbow up and jab his pursuer in the chin, he hears his name spoken.

"Master Roxas,"

Roxas stops and whirls around, finding a man without his cloak on. He wears a sleeveless tunic laced with plate mail armor and pants and boots. All of his clothing is a dark blue, and Roxas recognizes that color as the sign of the Shark Guild. The man has is bald but has a distinct five o'clock shadow and tattoos that cover his whole right arm.

"They've moved the execution to the Square in town." He says.

"What -?!"

"Cloud's decided to make it public. The gods know what for, perhaps for humiliation. He's bribed the local executioner and captain of the guard, but not with gold, but evidence. I don't know where he got it, but it's still being held at five thirty. Go."

Roxas swallows, his heart skipping a beat. "How can I trust you?"

The man looks around and lifts his left arm, completely bare of tattoos. Until he turns it over to the underside. Roxas looks and finds black ink on his wrist. It curls and laces in delicate lines to depict the tips of a flame. Roxas carefully angles himself so that he's blocking the man from seeing eyes and widens his gaze. His flame tattoo, marked on his chest, is on his wrist. It's the only tattoo on his left arm, and it's a near perfect replica.

"What of others?" Roxas whispers.

"Volunteered to go aboveground. Now go." The man says.

Roxas nods and turns and starts to run. He zigzags through the tunnels and into a secret route that leads to the tunnels spread out around the city. It's hidden behind thick foliage and made from the brickwork. He checks his perimeter and then flattens on his belly and crawls into the hole. He keeps his mind on focusing on where to go, imagining the interior and manages to navigate around until he feels the first brush of metal against his knuckles. Roxas reaches up and grabs the runs and hoists himself to his feet. He climbs for at least thirty seconds before his head bump the hard metal cap of the sewer. Swearing and rubbing his head, Roxas pushes at the lid and carefully peeks up and over. It's in the back alley and Roxas recognizes a shop across the way. It's the tailors shop and the tailor isn't far from the square. Quickly Roxas pushes up and reseals the lid.

He bolts off into a sprint and takes the back alleys until he spots a ladder propped against the side of a building under renovations. He quickly climbs up and makes it to the roof. Off to the east a group of early morning civilians are walking in the same direction, others are asking passing people and they point in the direction. Roxas zips up his jacket and starts to freerun across the rooftops.

Running along the gutters, hop scotching across chimneys and power leaping from one building to the next. It's been a while since he's roof-ran. It was sort of a distinctive trait when it came to being an assassin and thief. Running along rooftops and swinging from lampposts always gave Roxas a rush, and for a moment, a laugh escapes his lips. A single bead of sweat materializes on his left temple and starts to stream down the side of his head as he finds the gallows insight. The nooses swing in the cold morning breeze, and a small crowd has already gathered, leaning into one another to try and find out who it is that will be executed.

Roxas heaves a breath and barrels across the rooftops. He leaps and flips forward, tucking his knees into his chest as he latches onto a ledge of the building over. He scrambles up and finds the stage of the gallows still bare. The clock tower chimes and Roxas turns to find it reading five fifteen. He heaves a sigh of relief.

Peering over the edge, Roxas finds a ladder and climbs down into an alley between and art shop and a blacksmith. He stays concealed in the shadows as he sees the first figure step up onto the stage and adjusts the sizes of the noose. Glancing around the stage, Roxas tries to suppress a gasp as he sees a guillotine at the far left hand side of the stage. He keeps a grip on his gun as he stands aside while the minutes pass. Then, Roxas spots his father at the front of the stage, poised near the guillotine, his black cloak seemingly absurd with the people around. Then an executioner walks up on stage, a black hood concealing his face. The crew follows behind him in cuffs, all of them connected by one chain. Axel is the first to step up to the stage, then Zack, Demyx, Luxord, Xigbar, Vexen, Marluxia. Roxas tries to look at the executioner, and he doesn't recognize the build.

As he readies to step closer, a tingle goes up his back. Roxas draws his dagger and whacks aside an oncoming hand and raises is above his head, then brings up his foot to stomp into his attacker's stomach. He grunts and Roxas pursues and grabs one wrist, ready to twist it behind the man's back when he feels how thick it is. Roxas retracts instantly.

"Sorry Lex." Roxas says. He lets go and turns Lexaeus around to face away from the thickening crowd. "What's going on?"

"Something's gone wrong." He says trying to regain his breath.

Roxas feels his heart plummet to the ground. "What?"

"The executioner is different." Lexaeus says.

"What happened?"

"Cloud wouldn't let Leon be disguised and he couldn't argue without raising suspicion." Lexaeus explains.

Roxas looks back and still finds the men adjusting the nooses and guillotine. "So what now?!"

"Several men of the Sharks, Wolves and Lions are scattered about." says Lexaeus.

"No cloaks?"

"No cloaks."

Looking back, Roxas takes a deep breath. "Where?"

"Around the outside, plan on taking out the execution and taking the crew down the south road to the wall. From there, we navigate to the woods."

"I feel bad I haven't done much." Roxas says.

"You've done plenty."

"Is it wrong that I also don't feel obligated, like I should?"

"It'll catch up to you. You'll know it." Lexaeus replies.

Roxas sighs and looks back at the stage. "Well, you have been an absolute joy." With that Roxas readies to step out of the alley to get closer.

"Roxas." Lexaeus calls.

"Watch the rooftops. Look for the fire." He quotes.

Roxas is confused before his mind clicks back to the Shark insurgent who had the matching tattoo on his wrist. Roxas nods.

"And remember, no disturbances."

On that final word, Roxas then turns around and starts towards the crowd. He gently pushes his way through past women and men until he's close to the front, but not exact. Roxas leans out and sees his father watching the stage intently. Roxas keeps his gaze forward, and tries to make eye contact with members of the crew. Axel seems to look better thanks to the serum Roxas gave him, laced with a healing potion courtesy of Zexion. A small part of Roxas' mind worries as he hasn't seen Zexion since he left Demyx in his care. Of which, Demyx looks better, though Roxas can't see his back he comes to the summary that it's better since Demyx can lean up straight more. He manages to catch Axel's eyes and Roxas can't help but smile, and Axel doesn't smile in return but Roxas can see that there's a small hint of recognition, but Axel quickly looks elsewhere so his gaze doesn't linger. Despite the circumstances, Roxas takes the moment to look at all of Axel's tattoos, gleaming with sweat and smeared with dirt. They still wind around his arm and travel across his chest, and his hair has become a tangled mat. Roxas can only hope that his father doesn't spot him, and his hope is reaffirmed as more men crowd around him, one stepping slightly in front of him. Roxas can see his flame tattoo on the back of the man's neck, the guild of the Shark colored in his clothes. The man glances over his shoulder and gives Roxas a twitch of one corner of his mouth in an attempt to smile. Roxas nods and keeps his gaze ahead.

A man Roxas doesn't recognize, most likely hired by his father, is dressed in elegant robes and almost mimics the nobles Roxas has seen around the town. The idea of the hiring is diminished when Roxas sees three guards walk up on the stage. The man must be official. The fact fills Roxas with excitement at the idea of having to murder an official noble in front of a crowd, in the event of rebelling against his father.

The man then begins his speech about prosecuting against the men. He talks about how the men have committed the heinous crime of murder. Roxas can only imagine that Cloud had gone to the officials with the documented murder of Roxas' mother, just so that he has valid evidence and declare Axel a wanted man.

As the nobles tries to get through the speech, shout raises up from the crowd. "Get on with it already!" The crowd's anticipation grows and shouts and fists pumping is already starting.

It's not Cloud, but probably some man still working for him. Roxas swallows back his urge to shout back. The nobles nods though and skips right to listing what the crime is, and how the men need to learn their lesson of what happens when you commit crime in the city. Roxas snickers at the sentence since he's been getting away with the worst of crimes for years. The idea of boasting about a reputation you don't have reminds Roxas of his father.

"And now, it's time you got sentenced to your death!" the nobles shouts and the crowd bursts into a roar. Roxas looks back, past the muscled arm of the man standing behind him, and finds more people gathering, a minuscule of others going on with their business. Roxas places one hand on his throwing knives the other on his gun. He leans slightly to one side to mimic a citizen growing impatient.

"And we shall start, with your prestige Captain!"

As one of the guards go towards Axel, Roxas starts to push his way through the crowd now. He feels the men slightly behind him, keeping distance to allure suspicion and the movement of the crowd.

The guard unshackles Axel and hauls him to his feet. Axel thrashes against them, and the crowd roars and chants, angrily punching their fists in the air. The men ready the noose and are quick to loop it around his neck. Roxas makes it to the front and pulls out one throwing knife.

As the executioner is ready to pull the lever of the trapdoors, the knife lands in his back. As the man shudders and chokes, Roxas charges forward and jumps, hopping across the man's head, forcing him down and grabs the rope of the noose and cuts it from the post and away from Axel's neck. Without stopping Roxas lands on the other side of Axel and chucks another knife at the first guard. He deflects it, but Roxas is already in front of him and Roxas wraps the rope around his neck ad yanks the man down. Roxas ties it off tight, cutting off his breathing instantly and in a matter of seconds his face is already red.

Roxas back flips as a guard goes to swing his sword and as he rounds up Roxas throws another knife, this time it lands in the second guard's chest, and braises past the noble. But before he tries to flee, another body comes crashing down on him. It's Terra. Roxas runs and skids to a stop next to Axel and goes to slice at the ropes binding their hands. Another man of the Wolf Guild helps. Roxas has only freed Axel when more guards flood onto the stage.

The man of the Wolf Guild continues to cut away the ropes while a man from the Lion Guild comes up and hands Axel and the crew swords. Even though they don't have their cloaks on, their clothing still holds the colors of their guilds, even with their modifications to seem more individual.

Axel takes a dirk sword and turns away, praying that Roxas isn't already dead.

He isn't. He fights like a man possessed – swinging, thrusting and attacking with terrifying speed and force, disarming and disabling every opponent who comes at him. Axel looks to the crowd and finds Cloud still there, in angry shock. He clearly didn't see this coming, and to catch a guildmaster like him, Axel can only assume, is something rare.

Axel turns as more guards flood from his side of the stage and find the nobleman standing and shouting. A gunshot rips through the air and several people still near the stage duck covering their ears and for a moment things fall silent. Roxas stands with his gun raised and the faintest stream of steam flowing out from the muzzle. Axel is the first to look to the nobleman and the guards and citizens follow. The man has his hand at his throat and gurgles. Blood flows from his throat and stains his clothes, pooling over his hand. His eyes roll back and he falls back off the stage.

People scream now, and turning to the crowd, cloaked men rush towards the stage. Cloud still stands in place, and Roxas makes eye contact with him. As they stare, Roxas snarls and draws his dagger. Roxas runs and jumps off the stage and rolls forward coming up on his feet. He faces off against his father who only glares at him. Normally it would scare Roxas into submission, but it only fuels him more. He snarls at his father who only contorts his lip into a disapproval glare.

Raising his knife, Roxas calculates the angle he'll need to drive the blade though his chest and into his heart. Before he can thrust the weapon forward, Roxas is body slammed from the side and sent sailing off to the side across the stone and into the crowd of eligible townsmen and women still idiotically milling at the base of the strafe, unsure what their role in this unprecedented display of violence should be.

Hands reach for Roxas steady him, and try to hold him back. Roxas punches, kicks and swing his dagger until they back away. He can't save Axel unless he's on stage. Anyone standing between Roxas and Axel is dead. Roxas whirls around to find his father still standing there. As Roxas takes a step forward, he instantly ducks as he hears the whizz of metal above his head. He then stabs his knife into the cloaked man's stomach and then pulls out his gun and sets the muzzle under the man's chin and pulls the trigger. Blood splatters across his face and neck, but Roxas turns to his father.

"The boy you dealt with hours ago is gone." Roxas' voice is cold, his words rising with the terrible grief Cloud carved into him with Ventus' death.

Cloud's eyes are fierce pits of hatred as he slowly takes a step back and when a few of the cloaks surround him his for disappears. "No!" Roxas screams, but the cloaked men barrel towards him, the crowd now dispersing.

"Roxas!" he hears Terra shout.

Sheathing his blade, Roxas draws his gun and aims. He fires nonstop shots as the men approach. Even if a few try to dodge, the bullets still braise against their arms or sides of sides, causing them to stumble.

Roxas backtracks to the stage as he continues to fire the gun, the rest of the men free. Roxas stumbles and trips over something, landing in a small puddle of someone's blood. He quickly stands and finds it to be Vexen. A slash across his neck floods the crimson liquid across his bare chest. Clapping a hand over his mouth, Roxas stops a gasp.

"Roxas." He hears. Roxas turns his head and finds Terra with a bloodied sword in his hand. He tries to ignore Terra's and the men's stares at the blood splattered on his face. "Caught in the crossfire." Terra says.

"Can't say he'll be missed." Axel brutally speaks.

Terra turns to Roxas and hands him a wet cloth. "Are you okay?"

"Define okay." says Roxas. He takes it and viciously wipes his face.

"Are you still breathing?" Terra amuses.

"Do short panicked breaths count?"

Despite the circumstances, Terra chuckles. "Yeah, they count."

"Then I'm okay."

Roxas' eyes drift to Axel and finds him still with only his ragged trousers on. Roxas hitches a breath to resist the urge to run up and hug him. With Axel's bare chest and Roxas splattered in blood, it's not the best idea for a warming hug. But still Axel approaches and despite Roxas' step back, Axel grabs him by the shoulder and pulls him into an embrace. Roxas is hesitant, but quickly raises his arms and wrap them around Axel's torso.

"Are you okay?" Roxas asks as they pull away.

"We're fine, thanks to your impeccable timing." Axel tries to joke.

Roxas tries to smile, but his lips refuse. As Demyx loots the body of the nobleman, Terra comes up to Axel and Roxas. "We should get moving, stick to the back alleys until Lexaeus brings you all your clothing."

"And what of Cloud?" the bald man from the Shark guild asks.

"Gone." Roxas says with such anger and disappointment. "Can't say for how long though."

"You think he'll try to stop us from leaving?" Luxord asks as he rubs his wrists and picking up a sword from one of the dead bodies of the guards.

"I suppose. I don't know what he'll do. He could be going back to the mansion in shock or try everything to try and get me restrained." Roxas assumes.

Axel and the crew have worried looks on their faces while mutineer guild members nod their heads. They gather the weapons and let Axel's crew pick and choose. "I have my men scattered across the rooftops." Terra continues. "Should we get attacked by guards or loyal guild members, they'll do their best."

"And of Leon and his Lions?"

"They will be waiting for us at the gates. Along with Cid and Zexion and Xaldin." Terra answers.

"That only leaves the Serpents and the Spiders. Of the six, more than half have gone against my father? What of the men?" Roxas asks.

As he speaks, Terra motions the men off the stage and walks with Roxas rounding up the rear consisting of Axel and Demyx. "Most of them are loyal to their guildmasters and even support this, as you may have well assumed. But others are so captured by Cloud and his influence that they will turn against them for your father. Also, we've blown up most of the tunnels that lead around the city"

Roxas jerks his head to Terra. "Why?"

"So that they can't give us a surprised attack or sneak away like cowards. Leon and his Lions will be at the south gate, Cid and his Sharks are divided up with my Wolves and the rest are scattered around the streets and rooftops for surveillance and protection."

Roxas looks ahead as a member of the Shark peers out from around the corner. As Roxas looks around, a sudden thought occurs to him. "Wait, where's Vanitas?!"

Terra turns to him and takes an inhale. "It was reported by Zexion that he was behind him when they were escaping, but by the time they had gotten off the property, he was gone."

His heart shriveling, Roxas coughs a little bit before panic starts to make him shake. "You." Roxas speaks, his voice sounding harsher than he intended but his tone was steady.

Immediately he whirls around, his face going slightly pale.

"What's your name?" Roxas asks.

"Hunter, Master." He answers.

"Don't call me that. Can you climb up to the roofs and find us a quicker route?" Roxas says.

Hunter looks up and nods his head.

"Whistle when you think you've found a route." Roxas orders. He turns to Terra. "You and your men get Axel and the rest of the crew to the intersection and then to the gates."

"What?! Wait, where are you going?" Axel demands.

"I need to get back to the mansion." Roxas says, and he's already emerged from the alleyway.

"What?! Are you insane?!" Demyx says as he grabs Roxas' wrist.

"I need to get back there! He went back for the documents!" Roxas shouts and he wrenches his wrist free. "Get them do the checkpoint, get them dressed and armed. I'll meet you there. No arguments!"

Terra nods and pulls Demyx closer to their group. "Be safe."

Roxas nods and turns when he hears Axel call his name and Roxas stops ad turns. Axel comes up to him and before Roxas can prep himself for an argument about Axel going with Terra, he feels Axel's lips on his own, and Roxas' face flushes with warmth. His eyes shut immediately and he tries to relax, but he can't.

Axel pulls away and whispers. "Be careful."

Roxas nods his head and carefully turns away and starts to run. Only except when running, he doesn't go straight ahead, like Axel expected, but instead Roxas runs up a stack of crates and leaps up to a windowsill, from there he hoists himself up and climbs higher until he's on the roof. From there, Axel watches astonished as Roxas runs forward at a sprint and hops and leaps from roof to roof until he's out of sight.

"I didn't even know he still knew how to do that. But later, come, we must hurry." Terra says. Axel gives on final look back before following Terra, his willpower leaning more towards getting clothed instead of following Roxas.

Running along the rooftops, Roxas can see the Wolf guild members ready with bows and crossbows. Their heads turn and they wave to Roxas as he passes them by. Roxas finds the spiked and stone fence around the mansion not too far now. Roxas leans over the edge of the roof and finds a cloaked guard hiding in the alley close to the house. Roxas draws his dagger and gives a high shrill whistle. This attracts the thief's attention and he peeks his head out, stepping out a second later and walking under lip of the roof. Roxas jumps and spins his dagger in his hands. He hurls down and drives his dagger right between the man's shoulder blades, twists it to the right and yanks it free as the body timbers to the ground. Crimson splashes onto his shirt and stains his hands and the cuffs of the sleeves of his jacket. Roxas whirls around, sensing danger and sidesteps as an axe comes whistling down. Roxas jams his knee into the second cloaked man's stomach and drives his knife into the man's back. Not checking to check if he's dead, Roxas vaults over his body and starts to climb the gates. Women scream and huddle into their houses.

He prays that Vanitas is still alive, and that he had better have a fucking good reason to be heading back to the library for some stupid information. Roxas can only guess it's about the Faceless, but what could his father have about them? As far as Roxas knows, he shouldn't have any, unless he's just collecting what his father had gathered.

Roxas manages to vault over the gates and lands on the grass on the other side. He sprints across the lawn. He is on the western side of the complex. If he calculates correctly, the library shouldn't be far. Roxas finds a pergola with vines propped against the side of the wall and he quickly climbs up and through the window, smashing it open with the hilt of his dagger. His feet land on the plush carpet, and continue to sprint towards the library.

For one, brief moment, Roxas imagines turning, thrusting his sword into his father's crisp blue plate armor, and watching with pleasure as his father learns just how vulnerable a flesh-and-blood man really is.

As Roxas skids around a corner, he promises himself that he will deliver justice before Cloud realizes the boy whose loyalty he purchased in blood will be his final undoing.


	37. Chapter 36

Roxas hurries down the hall, Roxas' mind racing. He tries to think of all of the hidden rooms or safe places tucked away in corners of the estate but he can't remember any. He has always been a rambunctious boy, and curious too. If there is any, he would've known.

_Unless Cloud added more, that is_, Roxas thinks. With five years of secret war, he would've had plenty of time to build and remodel.

His path leads him to the dining hall, which looks naked with the empty chairs, covered table, and unlit chandelier. Then shouts of guards grow loud from down the hall. Alerted. Of course, because Roxas isn't even trying to be sneaky.

Then the bare wall next to him, basically dissolved. What should have been solid stone crumbled and curled, red smoke wafting off it. Inside is a room of which he has no memory. The walls are grey plaster, undecorated and leading further into the mansion. Filling the room are more than twenty cloaked members, armored with plate mail and swords. Capes emblazoned with their guild sigil – Serpents, Sharks, Shadow – covers their backs.

Roxas snarls and draws his dagger and sword, and lunges the men. The loyal guild members attempt to flood into the room, but they are quickly held back at the narrow exit. Those in front battle with Roxas, but their movements are slow compared to the grace of Roxas' movements. Instead of struggling with the numbers of twenty against one, his daggers slice through the mail as if it is butter. The metal sings and sears, staining with blood seconds after, helpless against Roxas' skills.

He holds strong, but he's pushing back a river with only daggers. Seven die at his feet, but the rest press forward, shoving aside their dying comrades. As the cloaked men spread out to surround him, the young assassin flips back and away, his body curling around sword strikes as if his bones are made of water.

Roxas grabs one of the many small black balls – about the size of a marble – and slams it to the ground and up erupts smoke. Roxas covers his nose with the collar of his shirt and sprints down the hall. Looking back he can see the men's skin already blooming with red welts and their coughing becomes dry and they start to gasp. A rouge cloak of dark green comes charging down the hall and Roxas skids to an immediate halt and rams his shoulder into the man's chest. He heaves and Roxas whirls around and drives his bloodied dagger into the man's sternum. As he collapses to the floor, Roxas snatches the man's cloak and wraps it around his shoulder, drawing the hood. Roxas then takes the body and hauls it at and through one of the many windows and waits until he hears the crack of pavement before moving on.

Looking out the row of the windows, his heart shudders at the sight. Pouring through the front gates in frightening numbers are various knights, dressed in shining armor with the emblem of the King on their tabards. How?! Why?! Roxas' feels his heart thrum like a jackrabbit caught in the sights of his predator. He thought he had everything accounted for, but this sudden attack of the King's knights is so, abrupt. Why are they here? Roxas can only assume that they are here for the recent, episode in the Square, thinking that the guilds have picked their time to strike. Roxas' stolen cloak will offer him temporary protection from the other guild members, but the King's guards is another story. No doubt they will be shooting at any sign of cloak. And then there's the matter of Roxas' bounty still out there, probably increased by his father by now. Whatever his punishment would have been for the murder of the guards, Roxas realizes that his attempt to escape and supplant his father will increase tenfold.

Roxas is not safe.

Screams soon chase him down the hall. Escape is all that matters now, he realizes. There will be no grab for power, no careful bartering for his life. The thought of returning to his father spurs him. He reaches the grand staircase and looks behind him. No one had come in peruse yet.

Glass shatters, and Roxas drops to one knee, covering his head and grunting as shards of it cuts across his face. He feels arms wrap around his body. Roxas screams and speedily rams his head back and feels it crash against the metal surface of a helmet. The hard material rattles and Roxas wrenches himself loose enough that he can raise one arm up and wrap it around the head of whoever is holding him, and placing his foot on the inside of his assailant's, he flips the metal-geared man over him and just as he hits the floor, slams his foot into the man's head.

Without stopping, Roxas immediately sprints down the hallway, the cloak being too big for him, flaps behind him, the front of it rippling and Roxas fears he will trip. At the second shattering of glass, Roxas halts abruptly and ducks into the nearest hallway closet. This time he can see the cause. Armored guards stand before the windows, swinging enormous mauls that easily bash through the glass and layer the carpet with shards. Soldiers flow in through the unguarded windows. Roxas feels torn between relief and worry. Relief because the King's involvement would certainly prevent his father's plans of takeover from going as they should. Worry because they'd kill him just as easily as any other member of the thief guilds.

_Well, maybe not as easily_, Roxas thinks with a wry smile. His daggers in hand, he waits until the men have passed by his hiding spot before quietly climbing out and bolting deeper into the mansion. If there is any hope of escape, he'd have to take Vanitas by the hair and find it in the back sections. If he is lucky, they might slip out through an unwatched window, as he has when fleeing the Oblivion's mansion.

Roxas is too fast for the initial wave in the hallway to catch him, but as he bursts through the door at the end he find himself in the middle of an armory. Three soldiers approach, their shields ready. Roxas rolls to one side, lashing underneath the shield at the closest guard's ankle. His dagger strikes armor and clinks off, doing no damage. When his roll ends, Roxas kicks hard, leaping into the very center of the three. They turn on him, but their shields are large and the room small. Roxas twirls like a dancer, his dagger punching through creases in armor. He jumps, kicks off a shield, and slams into the chest of another. As they roll to the ground Roxas' dagger cuts into the man's neck, once, twice, three times. Blood splatters across his face once more.

The other two soldiers, their arms and legs bleeding from several deep cuts, try to stab Roxas as he lies there. Their blades strike air. Roxas rolls off and onto his knees, then kicks back. He slides between the remaining two, and this time his daggers find open spots just above their greaves. To make sure they stay down, Roxas twists his daggers when he pulls them out. One dead and two others crumpled to the ground, Roxas runs out of the armory and into a corridor.

Recognizing where he is, Roxas hurries to the end and kicks open the door. He has entered the library, or at least one end of it. Sheathing his daggers, he closes and braces the doors sternly. Without caring who else could be in the room, and even with Vanitas' still unable to reply, Roxas takes a few steps out from under the awning of the upper floor and calls out.

"Vanitas!" he calls. Roxas lowers his hood and keeps his hand on his gun. The only thing he misses about his cloak is that is conceals his movements and leaves his intentions unpredictable to his enemies. "Vanitas!"

The sound of patting footsteps on the stairs makes Roxas whirls around and he finds Vanitas with one hand on the railing, the other holding the strap of Roxas' hunting bag, now stuffed with thick stack of papers and books. His neck is free of the collar from the hospital, but still his neck has deep purple and blue bruising like Terra predicted. Roxas winces as the ugly purple and black bruising spreading like decaying blossoms across his neck. Whether his voice still is able for usage is still left to be decided.

"Oh, Vanitas." Roxas breathes in relief as he bounds up the steps and wraps Vanitas up in a hug, careful not to spill the papers and books. His eyes widen at the blood on Roxas' face and the dark cloak that seems out of place for him given it's not his usual color. Roxas quickly checks to make sure that nothing is more out of place and once he's sure nothing else on Vanitas is broken, Roxas gives him an angry shake. "What were you thinking?!" Vanitas is about to reply when Roxas stops him with an open palm. "You know what, skip it. We need to get out of here."

"I needed to make sure I had all of your dad's information on the Faceless." Vanitas explains. His voice is hoarse and rough, possibly a little bit deeper than Roxas remembers.

Roxas whirls around and gives surprised glare. "How are you talking?! Terra said you weren't supposed to talk for another two days."

"Zexion injected me with a healing serum just before four o'clock. It's working pretty good."

"Your throat displays otherwise. But enough, we need to get going." Roxas says as he readies to take Vanitas' wrist. In protest, Vanitas digs his heels into the floor.

"Not yet."

Fury quickly coursing through him, Roxas' voice booms around the large space. "Vanitas this isn't the time for arguments! And since I know you can, that automatically makes you invalid." He yells. "The King's guards are here and they are killing _every_ living, cloaked figure they see. And you've already endangered your life by coming back here!"

"Every ounce of information we can gather will be useful in the longrun!" Vanitas shouts, his voice cracking making his argument less valid.

Roxas shushes him and tries to calm his voice so that it doesn't provoke Vanitas to shout back. "Look, our time is very, _very_ minimal right now. So just gather what you can, and let's go."

Vanitas nods and turns, motioning Roxas to follow him. Rolling his eyes impatiently, Roxas quickly follows and snaps his fingers in the cue to hurry. Vanitas points to a book that's too high up for him to grab. Roxas, without grabbing a ladder, climbs the shelf and fetches the book, getting him and Vanitas out of the way as it comes crashing down.

"Alright, come on." Roxas hurries.

"Okay, oka -"

Roxas whirls around. Vanitas' body shudders and lurches forward. His open mouth in shock, and it is only then he feels the pain. Blood seeps down the front of his grey tunic as he falls, a small arrow shaft sticking out of his back.

"No!" Roxas screams, catching Vanitas in his arms. The gathering of paper and books crumble to the floor and scatter about. Quickly without care, Roxas pulls out the arrow and turns Vanitas over, feeling Vanitas' neck. He nearly cries in relief when he feels the slow pulse. He's still alive.

Over from the far back left corner of the room, Cloud lowers his handheld crossbow and hops down from the architrave. He approaches and Roxas clenches his jaw tight. He can't stay to fight. All that matters is getting Vanitas out before his stops breathing.

"Stay away from me!" Roxas shrieks, holding Vanitas in one arm, and drawing his dagger with the other. He can't show off his gun yet, should his father get his hands on it . . . Cloud closes the distance between them, he still holds the crossbow.

"You have disobeyed me for the last time." Cloud says. His voice is overwhelmed with rage. "Secret dungeon visits? Defending their names? What is the matter with you!"

"You're one to talk about keeping secret, father!" Roxas screams again. "It's okay when you do it, but I can't?! That's bullshit and so are you!" Roxas has to bite the inside of his lip to keep tears from streaming down his face.

Cloud lunges for Roxas and Roxas quickly sets Vanitas' body on his back and leaps back out of Cloud's oncoming hand that seemed too reach for his throat. But the motion is inevitable as Cloud's other hand grabs Roxas' throat and Roxas feels his spine slam against the shelving. His father glares at him, his lip snarling. Roxas wraps his hand around Cloud's wrist to try and relent his grip. It's not enough to completely choke the life out of him, but Roxas struggles to breathe.

"You disappoint me." he says.

"Fuck you." Roxas hisses and brings both his feet up and pushes them into his father's stomach as hard as he can. It shoves Cloud back, but his grip tightens on Roxas' throat, bringing him down with him. They both roll with the momentum and Roxas reaches for his dagger and goes to slash at Cloud's wrist. He manages to get Cloud to release him as he anticipated the attack, but before he can retract, Roxas still grips one and slashes it across Cloud's entire forearm. Cloud immediately protests with a harsh backhand at Roxas. He then harshly turns and goes towards Vanitas.

"Get away from him!" Roxas screams and he charges with his daggers.

Roxas leaps up and charges his father who whirls around and slams his fist in Roxas' stomach, but Roxas grabs it and twists his body, kicking so his father is far from Vanitas. While so Roxas wrenches Cloud's wrist to the side, hearing a pop and hard crack. Cloud screams and uses his other hand to punch and fling Roxas across the titled floor.

Rolling with it, Roxas pushes to his feet and scrambles over to Vanitas. Pain rushes through Roxas as it travels up his spine and pounds at Roxas' head. He stumbles down and reaches behind him. He feels the shaft of a small arrow. Roxas is trying to pry it when he senses the pursuit. Roxas whips out of the way as his father's blade slashes mere inches from his face, a few strands of hair chopped off. The blade catches the end of the cloak and as Roxas rolls out of range, the button unclasps, the harsh whipping burning his neck. His father turns to him with brows angled in rage. His one wrist is limp, Roxas broke it.

"You could've been perfect." Cloud growls.

Roxas quickly angles his back and yanks the arrow loose, unleashing his ungodly scream of pain. He collapses he his knees as black dots swirl around his vision.

You were so close to perfect, so close." He says behind a deep guttural growl at the back of his throat."

"Well the boy you dealt with is gone."

"Every living man and woman would quake in fear of your name!"

"You lost him yourself! It's _your_ fault! You ruined your future when you made me spill Ventus' blood!" Roxas screams.

"Who?" Cloud says as he draws his sword. "That stupid kid?"

"He's not stupid!" Roxas screams.

Roxas runs at Cloud, grabbing his wrist. Roxas feels his father's muscles shift as he positions himself and Roxas ducks just in time. The sword whizzes over his head. Gasping, Roxas kicks Cloud in the ribs and twists his wrist to the side as hard as he can. Cloud drops the sword. But as Roxas spins to stab Cloud's diaphragm, Cloud grabs Roxas by his head, fisting his hair and punches him in the stomach, then takes Roxas by the wrists and flings him in the air. Roxas crashes into another bookshelf, spilling a few thin novels down, pain rupturing his spine as his arrow hole is right over his spine thanks to the accuracy of his father's marksman eye.

Pushing up to his hands and knees, the pain makes his vision go black around the edges. Cloud grabs Roxas by the hair and yanks Roxas to the side. He stares into the dark conflicted eyes of his father for an instant before Cloud punches him in the jaw. Roxas' head jerks to the side and he cringes away from Cloud, flinging his hands up to protect this face. Ignoring the throbbing in his jaw, Roxas goes and stares up at his father.

"What kind of man would do this to his own son?" Roxas softly asks.

Cloud's expression softens ever so slightly. Did his grip falter? Roxas twists and kicks back, his heel hitting his father in the leg. When his hair slips through Cloud's fingers, Roxas scrambles backwards, his shaking fingers fumbling for the gun. They close around the cool metal and Roxas flips over onto his back and points the gun at Cloud.

That's when the first explosion hits. There's an initial sense of impact prior to the explosion, of which resonates in Roxas' bones and the roots of his teeth. His eyes turn upward, and there are giant cracks that race across the ceiling, massive chunks of stone rain down on them.

Cloud looks to Roxas who aims the gun at him, and Roxas can see that he's debating. Thinking. Struggling. Roxas can't help but give a wry smile as he's now caught his father off guard.

The foundation of the mansion shakes again and once again both Roxas and Cloud look above to check for falling debris, but Roxas only glances as he has to keep an eye on his father. On the far end, smoke billows and belches into the room from underneath the main double doors. They're eyes meet again and Roxas hears a groan from Vanitas. Roxas can see him out of the corner of his peripherals and keeps the gun aimed at his father.

Despite everything he has done, Roxas can't help but see his own reflection of himself. This is his father. Even with the torture and pain and blood and sweat and tears, Roxas found himself unable to pull the trigger, at least not while aimed at his chest. Roxas shifts his aim and fires.

The sound makes Cloud cringe only seconds until he holds his leg. Roxas watched as a bullet hole made an appearance in Cloud's calf. Pushing to his feet, Roxas steadies himself and his hand and fires again, aiming this time at an arm. No hole appears, but Cloud grabs his bicep from a braise wound. He stumbles over a pile of rubble and with his limbs in searing pain he can't catch himself. Roxas runs up and kicks aside the sword that Cloud tries to reach for and aims the muzzle at Cloud's head.

They stare at one another, and Roxas can't help but count their similarities. Blue eyes. Blonde hair. Face smeared with blood. Bruises and scratches mauling their skin. Vicious looks of defiance.

Cloud glares at Roxas, and yells. "Do it!"

Roxas swallows and takes a breath to have his hands grow steady.

He pulls the trigger.

A bullet hole appears in the floor next to Cloud's head.

Cloud's expression grows more enraged. "What? That's it?! You're not my son! I can't believe I raised a coward like you!"

Roxas lowers his gun. "I didn't do it because I'm too weak. It's because I'm strong enough not to." he speaks softly. "I'm not going to have your last moments be filled with pleasure and joy as you watch me become what you wanted."

"I wouldn't have done the same. You, are not my son." Cloud coldly speaks.

Roxas carefully kneels down next to his father.

"I know you care, don't even try to deny it. You've longed proven yourself wrong the moment I was taken." His eyes glisten with tears. "I know you love me, but this isn't the proper way to show it. You can be better. You can _do_ better. And despite everything you've done . . . I forgive you."

A single tear escapes and streams down Roxas' cheek, cutting a clean trail through his blood splattered cheeks.

". . . and I am going to pray, that the gods have mercy on your soul."

Roxas sheathes his gun and runs for Vanitas. He has managed to hoist Vanitas on his shoulder, the pain emanating no matter where he will put him since the arrow hit near or even hit his spine. He looks out the available window and finds more of the King's army flooding into the property of the mansion. The men have catapults that fling flaming rocks at the house.

Cloud pushes to his feet and feels his anger irrationally grows more and aims at Roxas. Still a faint cry escapes him. It grows into a yell, which transforms into a scream, and then he's wailing until his throat burns. Roxas adjusts Vanitas as his father turns and charges at him in a full sprint.

Panicked, Roxas fumbles for his gun and pulls it out, activating the trigger with his trembling fingers. The recoil thrusts the gun upwards, the muzzle pointing at the ceiling. With it being already weak from the entourage of boulders, the bullet pierces into one of the giant fissures and the entire upper floor collapses. The entire upper level above them breaks and spills down burning bits of furniture, wood clothing, curtains and sparks. Burning floorboards crack from the mass and fall in showers of sparks in front of them.

Roxas instinctively jumps over Vanitas who is fighting consciousness. The heat is horrible. Even with still no smoke in sight, the thickening air threatens to suffocate Roxas at any moment. He looks over his shoulder.

Cloud's lower half of his body is buried in debris. Blood spills over Cloud's hands and the color drains from his face.

"Father." Roxas says. He means for it to be a shout, but it is just a wheeze.

Cloud slumps to the ground. Their eyes meet like the yards between them is nothing.

His mouth opens like he's about to say something, but then his chin drops to his chest and his body relaxes.

"Dad?! Dad!" Roxas screams.

The heat is now suffocating and the embers scatter about onto the carpet, instantly starting up another flame. Roxas' eyes burn and he is too weak to rise; the scent of sweat and blood and charred wood fills the air and makes him feel sick. He wants o rest his head on the ground and let that be the end of it. He wants to sleep now and never wake up. In a matter of minutes, his throat and nose are burning. Discomfort turns to distress until each breath sends a searing pain through Roxas' chest.

Roxas' blood cries out to him. He pushes to his feet and goes to his father, but another explosion rocks the foundation and Roxas is rocked back. He regains balance and makes it to the pile where he helplessly starts to claw and rake against the stones and wood that seem to fill the more he desperately tries to dig it away. The house shakes again.

"Stop it! Stop!" he screams to the open air. His cheeks are wet with tears but he keeps blindly clawing at the pile. His father's body still unmoving. With them being on the second floor of the library, the ceiling collapses over the open space near the entrance and it crashes, stirring up clouds of dust, gravel wood and sparks fly everywhere and the wood hisses like the a pit of vipers.

_Get out_! Roxas orders himself. He pushes to his feet and goes over to Vanitas.

By now the window has broken open, the glass shattering on either sides, coating the floor in diamond shaped shards that glisten in the flames light. Roxas sticks his head out the window to take a look. A massive crowd gathers about, a mixture of guards, onlookers and desperate neighbors organizing bucket brigades to ensure the mansions fire doesn't spread. In the chaos he can certainly slip away.

Roxas looks over his shoulder to his father, half buried in the rubble and burned wood. This could be his final resting place. Roxas gasps for air, desperate as his sobs leave him breathless. "I love you!" Roxas hollers with a quaking and cracking voice.

Behind him he hears a groan so loud Roxas can feel it in his chest. Roxas whips his head around and finds his father dragging his one free arm. Roxas rushes over, carefully positioning Vanitas before and slides to his knees as he digs through. this time he manages to pull his father free, his one leg still bleeding rather heavily from the bullet wound.

Fumbling his fingers to Cloud's nose, he feels shallow breathes and Roxas suddenly laughs with manic joy. But at his surroundings, he swears, running his fingers through his hair. He feels his throat constrict and his chest tighten. His heartbeat speeds to triple time. The fire is spreading and the heat is enough to make him convulse from exhaustion.

He can't leave Cloud for dead.

The fire is already crawling its way up the stairs, its smoke billowing. He has two minutes.

Roxas desperately looks around and finds a thick tapestry with a sufficient length bolted on the wall and quickly rushes over to it. He gives it a few tugs and using all his adrenaline-fueled strength, manages to pull it free with bolts and all. He drags it over to Cloud and ties one corner to his wrists. The other half Roxas wraps around his arm, adding length with his father's cloak of which he used the remains. He prays for the best. If Cloud was lucky, he will survive the fall, and those who found him – which Roxas just knows will be the remaining guild members – they will bring him to safety and nurse him back to health. That is if there are any left, of any guild. If the crushing debris and the flame didn't get them, the smoke did. And if guards find him, he will be mad, thinking his son turned him in, but the thought alone that he's still alive should be enough without saying. And besides, it's Cloud, he'll break out.

Roxas almost leaves him for the calm, quiet death from the smoke. Almost.

"I'm not you." Roxas whispers as he pushes Cloud's body out the window. He braces his feet against the wall and holds on with all his might. The clot pulls tight, and he lets a bit of is unspool before clamping down again. He nearly goes flying out with Cloud, he so badly underestimated the pull. About halfway down Cloud stops, and Roxas hoists Vanitas on his shoulder again, the adrenaline the only thing keeping Roxas from collapsing in pain.

He finds the nearest, lower ledge and pushes off with his feet. He grunts loudly as he lands, careful not to hit Vanitas' head or have his father bang against the brick wall. Roxas' hand loosens, and he starts to slide down. He can't grip. His hands are full. Roxas clenches his teeth and hisses.

The hand gripping the cloth holding his father opens and Roxas reaches for his dagger, rolling and stabbing it into the roof, it sticks. Roxas hoists himself up, placing a Vanitas on the roof carefully – who by some miracle is still breathing. Roxas counts to three before looking.

A couple of black cloaked men have already gathered around him. It appears someone had caught him. Roxas can't hear the voices from far, but he sees them pointing to his wounds and one man shakes his head, his look a mixture of anger and pity. Roxas sighs. The wounds, blood on his wrists and tattered clothing tell them a story they expected from such a wreckage. Now for Roxas' own safety.

He hauls Vanitas once again into his arms, trying to put the pain out of his mind, and leaps to a nearby tree, slides down, and vanishes amid the mob.

* * *

The streets are relatively clear except for those who are rushing towards the direction of the chaos, carrying empty buckets and white cloths. As Roxas runs, there's a searing pain just above his right knee. He grunts of pain every time his right leg takes the weight of his body. The arrow wound in his back hurts with sharp bursts of pain that match the rhythm of his pounding feet. But he keeps moving. No time to examine any of the injuries.

The sun is in the sky now, but the sky itself is a gorgeous red and orange blaze, the clouds a soft lavender purple. The golden clock tower chimes, the sound deep and roaring as it emanates through the bricks and stones as it announces the hour of eight.

Roxas forces himself into a sprint as the seconds tick away. His vision begins to spot with blackness, similar to the feeling of getting something in your eye. Roxas holds Vanitas' head with on hand close to his chest, his other arm tucked under his knees. Unable to take the throbbing, Roxas slows to a normal run and though his gaze is ahead, his eyes seem to now focus as something clicks. Flicking them around, Roxas finds the southern gates. Up until now, fueled by the adrenaline, his body was almost on autopilot; but now he's starting to see again and his heart sinks as he sees no one by the gates.

Roxas slows to a jog then starts to walk the last five yards. He looks all around and tries to find someone, but no one is around.

Just as he's about to collapse from hope exhaustion, he hears his name shouted with glee. Roxas stops abruptly, nearly slipping when a hand presses into his back. Roxas whirls around and finds Lexaeus. He gets a firm lock on Roxas' one arm while Leon comes up and takes Vanitas from his arms. For a moment, Roxas forgets that he's out of the mansion and having an animal instinct, only sees Leon as another threat and feels that Vanitas is unsafe in anyone else's arms but his own. Roxas' grip is so tight that Leon has to carefully try and pull Vanitas away, his voice cooing to Roxas gently. When he finally succeeds, a good size portion of Vanitas' clothing rips, leaving Roxas with a fistful of pale fabric. The only thing stopping Roxas from screaming and lunging for him is that he is so suddenly exhausted that he doesn't protest, and he knows that he won't be able to hold Vanitas anymore.

As Lexaeus holds Roxas steady, Roxas' name is called once again. He carefully adjusts his head and finds Axel running up to him. Lexaeus is about to say something and extends out a hand to stop him, but Roxas pushes it aside and takes a step forward. But he winces as he becomes more aware of the pain behind his right knee and burning his back. The adrenaline rush that overrode him the sensation has passed and his body parts join in a chorus of complaints. Roxas is banged up and bloody and it feels as if someone is taking a pickaxe and pounding at his left temple from the inside of his skull.

Still, Roxas lets Axel grab his shoulders – too hard though, Axel's fingers digging into Roxas' skin where the arrow was. Roxas cries out in pain as Axel pulls him in.

"Roxas." He says again, and his mouth collides with Roxas.

Axel's arms wrap around Roxas and he lifts Roxas up, holding Roxas against him, Axel's hands clutching the blonde's back. Roxas' hands rest on Axel's shoulders and he opens his eyes slightly to take in Axel's appearance. There's splatters of blood on his clothing - of which he has obtained once again – a white blouse with poufy sleeves, a vest that extends long in the back, his hair a tangled mat, only tamed by his one black headband, dark green trousers and brown boots with belts and buckles across his hips. Axel's face and the back of his neck is slick with sweat, his body is shaking, and Roxas' shoulder blazes with pain, but Roxas doesn't care, he doesn't care, he doesn't care.

Over Axel's shoulder, Roxas can see Leon carry Vanitas over to Zexion, who comes running up with Demyx behind him.

Axel sets him down and stares at him, his fingers brushing over Roxas' forehead, his eyebrows, his cheeks, his lips. Roxas watches as shock punches frissons of panic through Axel.

Roxas' pale skin is smudged with what looks like ash and soot. His jacket is battered and smeared with blackened dust. And his _hands_. His hands are covered in dirt and dried blood, and he clutches Axel's shirt like he's going to disappear if he lets go.

But worst of all is the look on his face. Cold. Fierce. Empty. Like someone has snuffed out the Roxas Axel had grown accustomed to and sent out a hollow shell in his place. His still beautiful blue eyes are so wounded, swimming with grief and exhaustion. Axel just wants to hold him until some of the pain recedes.

Something like a sob and a sigh and a moan escapes Axel, and he kisses Roxas again. His eyes are bright with tears. Roxas never thought he would see Axel cry. It makes Roxas hurt.

Axel sniffs before he talks. "Your father?"

Roxas looks up to him. He should tell him. In fact Roxas wants to tell him. But he's tired. So tired. The words won't come, though. Maybe they don't exist. Roxas strains to feel something. To let it cut into him so he can cry. So he can share the grief with one person who will understand the depth of what he's lost. Axel drags Roxas against him and cups the blonde's face in one hand and rubs his cheek with his thumb as if he can transfer his living, breathing grief into Roxas' skin, shattering the icy silence within him into something he can understand.

But Roxas can't allow it. If he grieves now, how will he ever find his way out again in time to keep his promises?

Roxas cries into Axel's shirt.

Axel rubs his back and kisses Roxas' head repeatedly while still stroking his cheek. The blood of those that Roxas has lost, it now stains beneath his skin, entered his veins, and has become a part of what's left of him. No amount of blessings or water or forgiveness can erase it.

Roxas manages to gather himself enough to answer Axel's question; at least as best he can. "I'm not ready to talk about it, yet." He answers. When really he just doesn't know how to get past the silence consuming him and find anything that feels like hope. His father has disowned him. The bounty is still out there, tripled in reward. And now it's not safe for him to live in his own town anymore.

"That's fine." Axel says. He pulls away and kisses Roxas' forehead. "Whenever you're ready."

Roxas nods and wipes his nose.

"We need to leave." Terra's voice speaks.

Roxas looks up to him as he motions the gathering of rebel guild members and they start to walk out of the gates and towards the road at a quick pace. Roxas follows with Axel next to him. Demyx comes up on Roxas other side and wraps his arms around him. Roxas leans in and gently lays his hand over Demyx's, afraid to touch him with bloodied hands.

They've gone at least fifty yards, the wall of the city still in sight as they set their stuff down near a small gathering of trees. Their leafy canopy suppressing the sun's light, the chill of autumn now fully casting over the land. Roxas stays as close to Axel as possible. Leon comes up and hands him a burlap sack and Roxas takes it. He crouches with his back supported by the tree behind him and rummages through what Leon managed to save. Meanwhile he overhears the rebel members talking about the sudden flow of the king's guards.

As Roxas assumed, his stunt in the marketplace and killing off the guards had prompted the King into thinking that the guilds were then using the moment to strike and launch their assault on the kingdom. The King finally decided to take action and attack the mansion of which the Shadow Guild lived, knowing already that it was the central hub of all the guilds plotting. Terra, Leon and Cid as well as nearly all of their men saved and escorted most of the citizens into their homes before slipping away from the chaos as the bucket brigades ran into action to suppress the fire. Demyx makes a joke meant for Roxas, on how terrified Axel was and how Leon had to physically drag him away from the direction of the mansion. Marluxia tried to promote himself to one of the guildmasters, described as who can only be Larxene, but none of them stayed in time to see the end result. Roxas assumes he is dead, and can't seem to find any form of grief for him whatsoever. He tried to get into the gilds, and he failed. They all then gathered at the south gate, but had to slip out and walk a few yards away to elude suspicion of guards. After the explosion at the mansion, Axel and Demyx were the first to charge back into the city. That was when they spotted Roxas carrying Vanitas.

"Master Roxas." Cid's voice speaks.

Roxas looks up to him and finds him wearing a white t-shirt with two buttons descending from the neck. His baggy pants are blue and have a very wide, orange waistband with thin vertical stripes on it. They're won rather high, with the waistband coming up to just under his ribcage. Then grey socks and black boots. Roxas also sees he wears a necklace with a rectangular charm, and he chews on a toothpick as a replacement for a cigarette.

"If I may ask, what shall we do now?" he asks.

Roxas stares at him, almost blankly. He knows the answer, they need to get to the Faceless, but with the guilds rebelling against his father, and him no doubt going to reach out to other guilds, Roxas feel conflicted on what's the right thing to do. It's not safe to enter the cities with the risk of getting caught, and yet he can't keep dragging them all around the wilderness in hoping that they'll stumble across the Faceless Headquarters. The burlap sack filled with Vanitas' research and findings Roxas managed to spare, but he has little to no knowledge of how to locate them. Only Vanitas, and he is still out cold and under critical care of Zexion to check for smoke inhalation in worry his vocal chords and trachea were affected.

Roxas really doesn't know what to do. And he has people here depending on him for leadership.

If he was still Cloud's son, he would've easily managed to handle this with all of the teachings and ideas set into him on how to rule with an iron fist and a guarantee that no one will argue or prod him in unfaithfulness.

But he is not Cloud's son anymore. The heir to the Darkness is dead, and Roxas is supposed to be a whole new person. And yet the gnawing pain of loss and rage has hollowed him to someone . . . to _something_, he doesn't know how to use or control.

He looks up and sees Demyx, his face resolute, a newfound gravity carved into him by everything he's endured. Beside him, Xigbar stands tall and steady, his arm curved around Demyx's shoulder. Luxord, Xaldin, and Lexaeus are next to him, looking fierce and ready. Zack, Terra and Leon stand slightly beside them, their eyes trained on Roxas. Zexion is hovered over Vanitas, but he spares Roxas a glance and a small smile. Behind them are teams of survivors that are armed with what weapons they could spare and all wearing individual clothes instead of the matching cloaks that would divide them. Roxas looks over them and realizes he sees something he'd never thought he'd see again.

Hope.

They're broken, but they aren't beaten. They want to live. Not just breathe in and out, watching one day fade into the next. They want to _live_.

And they want Roxas to help the do it.

Roxas is so tired. He wants to lie down, sink beneath the ashes and dirt, let it all slide gently into his lungs and carry him to Ventus. He wants to, but he can't. Because his debt has not yet been paid. Roxas is unsure if Ventus would've approved of what he did back at the mansion. A part of him thinks he would, as is Ventus' nature. And yet the other half of him, the assassin part of Roxas hates himself for it, as Cloud didn't deserve the kindness. But that's also why he did it. He's not his father, and he doesn't want to become him. Cloud said it himself he wouldn't' have done the same thing.

But despite his years of training, Roxas could tell he was lying.

Now Roxas has been elected the new leader of this new group. Many of them reason because he publically stood up against Cloud not only in his own home, but in the Square as well, an unprecedented act of courage he then trumped by escaping from the mansion as well as singlehandedly taking out any loyal guild members in his wake. It's not something Roxas wishes to take credit for anymore, but it's all the motivation he has. He is too young. Too inexperienced. He has always thought that the guildmasters only agreed to have him lead because he was the heir to Cloud, and because Cloud would have it no other way. But it would seem that more than half of them truly did see something that Roxas didn't, and still doesn't. he feels an unwelcomed stab of understanding for his father's absolute refusal to entertain any discussion on his decisions. Trying to get one hundred and seventy-five people opinionated people to agree on a course of action is harder than trying to herd a bunch of tomcats out of an alley.

Roxas rises to stand and takes a couple steps towards the group. He decides to speak the truth.

"We need to find a safe place. We need to get to the Faceless." The crowd shifts restlessly, and people begin whispering to one another. "Because of my bounty, I cannot risk bringing all of you into the cities without fear and expectancy of danger. And with my father – with Cloud's – connections, it is risky to be walking around the wilderness. We are a big group, an easy target, but we have skills of which can be shared. That can and _will_ be passed on. As of today, the allegiance between the guilds are broken, their members scattered. We are like outcasts now. I do not know what life will be like, separated from our city – it feels disengaged, like a leaf divided from the tree that gives it sustenance. We are creatures of loss; we have left behind, everything. And it is with a great gratitude, that I thank each and every one of you for choosing me. For choosing a cause that I didn't even know existed, until now. I have no home, no path, and no certainty. I am no longer Roxas, the son of Cloud Skyes. I can't guarantee that I will meet our expectations. I can't guarantee that I will make decisions that meet all of your needs. But I can only hope that your faith in me will carry through for however long we have together. This will be the hardest days, weeks, maybe even months of our lives. But today is the start of something new. Something beyond our world of poison, daggers, and the iron rule of my father. Today, we begin a new organization; a new brotherhood. And together we will show Cloud what it _truly_ means, to be loyal, and faithful and united!"

The whole crowd bursts into cheers and punches the air with their fists, hollering and hooting as they slowly disperse. Roxas can only hope they've managed to grab money and personally belongings.

As he turns to Axel, he sees the shadows of the leaves decorating across his features, still Roxas can spot the smile on his lips. "Not bad for your first try." He grins. He holds out his hand and when Roxas takes it, he can feel the boy shaking. Axel smiles and gives a soft chuckle. "Hey, come here." he pulls Roxas against him and feels the boy exhale deeply. "You did great."

"I feel sick." Roxas mumbles into Axel's shirt.

"It's okay." Axel coos, kissing the crown of Roxas' head. His lips brush against Roxas' hair as he speaks. "You kept your promise."

Roxas looks up, his chin resting on Axel's chest. It takes a moment for the words to hit, but when they do, Roxas' eyes widen. He's right. Axel's safe. Alive. Warm and steady beneath Roxas right now. And Vanitas is bound to make a recovery. But there's Ventus . . .

As if connected to his thoughts, Axel speaks. "He would've been proud. You made the right choices."

Roxas runs his fingers along the tendons in Axel's hand and looks back at him.

"You know, I still remember when you said you loved me. I play those four beautiful words over and over again."

"Well that's thoughtful of you." Roxas says, smiling.

He feels Axel's laughter against his side, his nose sliding along Roxas' jaw, his lips pressing behind his ear.

"I'd like you to say it again." Axel says. "But I was afraid to ask."

Roxas laughs a little. "Then you should know better."

"So will you?"

Roxas kisses him as Leon calls for the men to make their final checks on their supplies. Then he turns with Vanitas' map in hand and starts to trudge forward. As the group slowly starts to move, Roxas still kisses Axel for as long as he wants, for longer than he should since Demyx has to come back down and call them forward.

Roxas and Axel walk together with Demyx on the other side. Looking down, Roxas finds Axel's hand and his fingers slowly tickle their way through until they're laced together, intertwined like the tendril vines of wild flowers. Demyx hooks his arm with Roxas and the three walk together behind the group as they trudge up the hill.

Leaving one family behind, Roxas hopes that he can somehow build a new one, and vows to protect it until his dying breath.


	38. Epiologue

Deep inside his safe house, Cloud talks with two men newly appointed as his advisers. Neither have the strength of Lexaeus, the cunning of Saix, or the skill of Roxas. They are sycophants, pure and simple, but he needed them now. He has little else.

Their news is grim. The execution of the pirate crew had failed, and now they have fled the city with more than half of the Guild leaders and members. There's a rebellion rising against Cloud and his guild, only the Serpents and Spiders remain. The men stationed at the mansion had suffered horrible casualties, the catapults setting fire to the place and sending the men frantically fleeing. His own son is now gone, and some one-eyed woman is spreading rumors that he is the martyr of the rebellion, perhaps even conspiring with the King himself. Worst of all is his ultimate defeat on the property of his own estate.

"The Lions, the Wolves, and the Sharks are all supposedly with your son." one of the sycophants says. "At least know they're traveling together toward finding that new faction, The Faceless."

Cloud shakes his head.

"Get out." He says. The men quickly obey. In silence, Cloud broods. His mystique, his prestige, his years and years of respect, have all vanished in a single night. Every aspect of his prepped plan has collapsed. Every single guild in the city has taken massive casualties. Whatever bloody trust he had earned, he has now lost. The remaining guilds will start poaching his territory. The Bastion is already coming down hard, swarming the streets with their troops. Priests roam the alleys as well, putting an end to his enterprises. And his own son saved his life. A gesture he should be grateful for, but only growls and whacks off all the materials on his desk. His leg still hurts from where his son had shot him.

Cloud draws a sword and slashes his palm. He raises a clenched fist to the ceiling and bares his teeth.

"This isn't over." He swears. "Not now. Not ever. Not until every lord and lady are lying in their graves. And those fucking sea men are hanging by ropes in my tree."

He kisses his fist, tasting the blood on his lips. He has no son. No heir. Death will be his legacy.

* * *

As Roxas snuggles down into his bed roll next to Axel, he tugs his jacket tight, zipping it up all the way to the collar. Zexion had managed to heal his arrow wound, saying it was particularly easy since it looked worse than it did; missing Roxas' kidneys and not even rupturing his spine. His burn wounds are nearly gone and are expected to be fully healed within the matter of three days.

Snuggling down and propping on his elbow, Roxas takes his hand and tentatively strokes the knuckle of his fingers across Axel's temple, down to his cheek. His looks so peaceful and younger when in slumber.

His eyes flutter open and his green eyes shimmer like stars in the moonlight. The canopy of leaves above their head wafts slightly, tearing them off the branches.

"Hi." Axel smiles.

"Hi." Roxas replies.

Without word, Axel extends out his arm and Roxas scoots closer and rests his head down. Closer now to Axel, the chill of the coming autumn night seems to have vanished. Using his hand, Axel tickles the back of Roxas' head and leans in placing a kiss on Roxas' temple as he giggles. Roxas tilts his head up and manages to catch Axel's lips.

When they break apart, Axel licks his bottom lip. "You know I'm still waiting for it."

"For what?"

"For you to say it again." He smiles.

Roxas rolls his eyes. "Really?"

"Yes. Things like this are important to me."

Axel tickles more and Roxas twitches and scoots closer to Axel's chest in an attempt to escape his tickling fingers. As Roxas snuggles into Axel's chest, he feels his arms wrap around his torso. Axel kisses Roxas' forehead and drifts his lips to Roxas' ear.

"I love you, Roxas."

Roxas angles his head up and kisses Axel's soft lips once more. The pressure temporarily erases all the pain and loss that Roxas has, and manages to crack through the hollow silence within him enough for Roxas to feel and return the deserved affection

Roxas closes his eyes and feels Axel's breath against his cheek. "I love you too, Axel."

**~End of Book One~**


	39. Preview of New Series: Coming Soon

**~ Witness a never-before-seen preview of a possible new series coming soon! ~**

**Brought on by a project for his class, Roxas has taken an interest in his ancestor's life, fascinated by the trials and difficulties he had to face as a rogue assassin with a rebel heart. With the help of his best friend, Roxas soon discovers that his ancestor's work is not yet complete. A thousand years of history flowing through Roxas' veins is soon brought back to life as he sets out to finish what it is his ancestor started. But the journey brings with it troubles both old and new. Soon, Roxas is fighting for his own survival as he desperately tries to root out the evil before it destroys his world. ~**

"_Back in the 15__th__ century, Twilight Town was under the iron fist of a Master Assassin by the name of Cloud Skyes. No one in the city questioned his decisions, and many thought twice before they dared speak ill of his name. _

_After he had met and married Tifa Lockhart, a young woman who was born in a middle class family, they had a son named Roxas Skyes, who would soon become the heir to Cloud's dark empire and the most known assassin of the time. _

_For years under his father's tutelage, Roxas was cold ruthless – everything an assassin should be. His mother had been reported dead when he was at the age of eight, murdered by some drunk at a pub; only later to be revealed that she had used the case as a cover-up for her escape away from Cloud and his Guild. _

_Since the age of eight, Roxas has been trained by Cloud to be a skilled assassin. He taught Roxas hand-to-hand combat and drills him in target shooting. Cloud had educated Roxas with the intent on using him as living weapon that will help him take over the city of Twilight Town, and Roxas being declared the King of the entire kingdom. Roxas was never given a "proper" childhood, as his father denied him love, friends and faith to ensure that nothing belittling such as emotions will slow Roxas down or be used to his leverage against him. He had Roxas memorize a series of back-stories for himself to be used "when the time comes."_

_Amazingly, Roxas obtained the skills and knowledge that can be classified as "Master" as he retained detailed encyclopedic knowledge, had near perfect precision and accuracy with ranged weapons, and can proficiently take down a near army of men singlehandedly. Research states that his primary weapons are small or lightweight such as daggers and long knives, but had a fondness for pistols, as they are the first version of a gun that he has seen. _

_Roxas was responsible for the wide spread string of murders that happened through Twilight Town. One of the many famous cases was back when -_"

RIIING!

Roxas jolts from his train of thought as the bell rings, signaling the end of class, setting all of the students free.

Looking around the class students practically leap up from their chairs, shrugging their backpacks onto their shoulders. Their teacher, Mrs. Jane Porter, halts the class as the first student makes it to the threshold of the door.

"Now hold on, hold on everyone, a quick reminder." She says above the rustling and scraping of chairs. She holds her hand up palm forward, as if such a motion somehow holds the power to still the room.

Kids jonesing for lunch and already halfway out their seat sink back down again, their butts reconnecting with their chairs like magnets snapping together. All around, backpacks slip from shoulders and chins return to hands.

They should have known better, Roxas thinks wryly. Mrs. Porter never lets them out early. Never. Especially not when there is a fifteen minute passing periods.

"Don't forget to turn in your first resource citation by tomorrow. You'll need one from online and one from an article for your research essay. Here's a syllabus being passed around. She licks her finger and leafing through the first few. Then, retweeting her fingertips, she sends out the next stack, and the next.

Roxas blanches as he watches the papers make their way towards him, and hopes he'll be the lucky one to snag one relatively free of her saliva.

"You'll need your first body paragraph by Wednesday for peer editing, and your final draft is due a week from this Friday. Be sure to see me if you have any questions to stay behind and talk to me, otherwise I'll see you tomorrow. Alright, have a good day."

Roxas sighs as he runs his fingers through his hair. He slides the tip of his finger along the touch pad and clicks out of the internet tab. Gathering his notebook and folder, stuffing them into his backpack, Roxas and closes his laptop and carefully sets it inside. At her words, students lift from their seats and hurry out of the room before Mrs. Porter could stop them for another announcement.

As Roxas rises from his seat, he looks to find his friend Hayner walking up to him. "You seemed rather intrigued by something. Looking at the latest issue of "Sport's Illustrated?"" Hayner teases as he pokes his elbow into Roxas' side, but Roxas doesn't return his smile.

"What century do you live in?" Roxas sneers as he shrugs on his backpack.

"Hey relax, I was only joking."

"I know." Roxas shakes his head. Hayner always teases Roxas since he's never had a girlfriend despite him being blessed with a handful of attractive features that compensate for the majority of average ones. At a passing glance, one might think his eyes are blue or grey, perhaps eve green, depending on the color of his clothing. Up close, though, these warring hues are offset by the brilliant ring of gold around his pupils. But it's his golden hair that catches the attention of most, hair that still maintains the glimmer of its glory.

He follows Roxas out the door and keeps to his side. As he turns into the hallway, lockers slam and the soft bustling of student chatter fills the air. Around them, kids pull on their backpacks and grab their books.

Roxas has been studying at Twilight Town University for nearly a year now, just coming up to finish his first semester. Given he still has an undecided major for his future, he resorted to taking his General Education classes in the hopes that he may figure out his major in the process.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he takes out his ear plugs and sets them in, turning on his music player. Hayner doesn't bother him and Roxas puts on his glasses as they approach the locker wall located on the north side of the outer atrium of the school.

An itch tickles Roxas' right temple, but when he goes to scratch it, he hisses in pain as he hits his eyebrow piercing. Upon a habit he built, Roxas checks his industrial piercing on his left ear and thankfully finds both ends still secure. The first time he'd gotten this piercing, he ended up losing one end when he went swimming with his friends at the beach. Ever since then, Roxas had gotten into the habit of checking it whenever he does any foremost activities that could make him lose another end.

Roxas dials his combination, then kicks the dented bottom corner of his locker. The door pops open, sending his pencil case toppling out to hit the floor with a muffled crack, contents spilling. Sighing, he thanks Hayner as he squats down to recover his thin black sharpie.

"I can't believe we need to make a six page essay!" Hayner groans as he hands it to Roxas.

Roxas growl-sighs, shoving it all back into the pouch. "At least she's counting the work cited page as one. So technically it's only five."

"Don't try and sugar coat it. It still sucks, even if she's an attractive teacher." Hayner says with an exaggerated look of annoyance. Roxas chuckles.

"Um, ew. But you have to admit, at least it's about an interesting topic." Roxas says as he stuffs the pouch back into his locker. The university offers lockers to students, but it costs extra money along with the payment for books. Since Roxas decided to stay in the dormitory, it's in his best interest he keeps a locker instead of carrying everything in his backpack, or having to go back all the way to the dorm just to exchange one subject for another.

"I guess, I mean researching my ancestors was something on my bucket list." Hayner agrees.

Roxas jumps, cutting off Hayner's next sentence, startled by a mysterious hand that, with a clink of bracelets, appears from around the side of his open locker door. The hand holds Roxas' runaway highlighter between a set of long fingers.

Roxas takes the highlighter and tosses it into his locker. "Hey Olette." Roxas smiles as he stares into his open locker as he changes out his books.

This time Hayner jumps, shaken from his reverie, his breath catching when the hand reappears. This time it loops over the top of his locker door, the fingers clutching a familiar red pen with a chewed cap. Roxas takes the pen with a chuckle as he moves his locker aside. Olette stands there, her one shoulder leaning against the lockers with books in her arms and a smirk on her lips. She wears a pale pink tank top and a light brown broom skirt with tribal designs curling and twirling.

"Hello boys." She smiles. "Did I miss anything interesting."

"Unless you count Hayner's ranting about assignments interesting." Roxas chuckles as he switches out his History book for his Psychology journal.

"I was not ranting." Hayner defends.

"You were complaining about how Ms Porter gives too much homework, but yet she can easily make up for it by turning her back to the class so you can get a good look at her ass."

"I said no such thing . . . out loud."

Olette chuckles. "Your facial expressions must've given it away, as usual."

"Seriously, from what I see, I can see the boner through your pants."

"Why are you looking?" Hayner smirks.

"Why are you showing?" Roxas counters.

"Okay boys," Olette interjects. "Let's go, Sora and Namine are free this hour."

Roxas slams his locker shut, giving it a reassuring slam to ensure it bolts. He shrugs on his backpack and follows Olette as she leads the trio out towards an open courtyard decorated with multiples of plant life. Trees are scattered around with flower beds bordering the outline of the atrium.

The summer months have long since arrived, constantly bathing each hallway and spacious courtyards with endless but burning sunlight. Most of the students have already taken it upon themselves to deem such conditions worthy of tank tops – tight and loose – and those ridiculous denim shorts that barely cover the butt apart from the constant basketball shorts that still do little to hide what pattern of boxers you're wearing. Birds chirp and already several students have claimed their spot under the shade of the towering oaks. Others have spread out across the grass with their phones plugged into speakers or shutting themselves off from the rest of the world by putting in their earphones.

Roxas' eyes automatically search for any signs of their friends, and expectedly find them sitting at their usual spot under the shortened vines of a weeping willow. Sora with his caramel spiky hair sits with a pen in his mouth, nibbling on the cap as he hovers over a piece of paper scribbled with mathematic equations. Namine sits in a halter maxi dress, her jean jacket cast off to her side as she takes an eraser and rubs it along the large sketchbook in front of her.

Sora's eyes shift to the others immediately and he smiles, releasing the pen and waving. "Over here!"

"You don't have to wave, we always meet here." Hayner reminds as he drops his bag to the ground.

"How are you guys?" Olette asks as she sits across Namine.

"Good." Sora chirps. Roxas takes his seat across from Sora while Hayner leans against the tree and pulls out his laptop.

"What are you drawing Namine?" Olette asks as she leans forward on her elbows to peer over at Namine's sketch.

"We're supposed to draw an original character, and I think I have a good basis, but I don't know where to go from here." She says.

Roxas leans over and finds a detailed picture of a young man shrouded by a cloak and cowl, the only visible part of him being one eye that is shaded at an icy blue. The cloak widens out and wraps around him as if caught in a gale and covers the rest of his body before it starts to form into streams of black paint and droplets stopping in the middle of the page. The entire piece, apart from the eyes, seems done in charcoal and pencil, outlines done in the hair to nearly show every follicle. The cloaked man glares at the viewer with his all-knowing eye, his masked scrunched at the nose in an intended snarl. He wields a dagger with the blade spun out and stands in a defensive position.

"That's really good, Namine." Roxas smiles. He turns and fishes out his own laptop from his backpack.

"Aw thanks, Roxas. But I feel like it's missing something." Namine sighs as she leans into the palm of her hand.

"It looks fine to me." Olette smiles.

"It's an artist thing. You wouldn't understand."

As Olette and Namine talk art, and Sora and Hayner both compare and complain about their class homework and projects alike, Roxas clicks on the browser and reopens the tab he had held off in class. He scrolls down to his last placement and rests his chin on his knuckles.

"_Roxas was responsible for the wide spread string of murders that happened through Twilight Town. One of the many famous cases was back when he had murdered King Ansem at the age of twelve. _

_Soon things in Roxas' world started to change as he was mistakenly carried upon a ship owned by "pirates" – preferably referred to as rogue sailors of the seas – and held hostage as they sailed around to other kingdoms and small towns. The ship was led by a captain by the name of _Axel_, who wasn't really feared by most, but had a reputation for leaving towns in shambles should not be given proper respect._"

The name of Captain Axel is highlighted as another link to a separate page of the website, but Roxas scrolls past it. Further down the screen, another sketched picture of the assassin comes up. This time he has his back to the viewer and he glances over his shoulder, his eyes squinted in disdain, hood and cloak concealing most of his body and face. He has sharp daggers in his hands and hands kept to his side

"_As their travels brought them to the shorelines of Destiny Isles, to the near utopian city of Hollow Bastion, a strange yet palpable relationship soon began to form between the assassin and captain. Along with this comes a deep friendship being formed by the assassin and the captain's first mate, Ventus. Despite their incredible similarities in physical appearance, Roxas didn't seem to mind, or rather "care" as quoted by an outside source. Still, the boys both seemed to bond despite their rather opposite personalities as well as lifestyles._

_Through a series of trails that followed them along their travels, the captain and assassin soon grew fond of one another enough that once they had returned to Twilight Town, Roxas couldn't stand the idea of Cloud executing the man. _

_However, this disobedience and change of heart enraged Cloud, so much that he had forged a plan to take back his heir since the crew had "softened" him to where he wouldn't be an acceptable eager of an assassination guild. Cloud soon gathered Roxas and the crew into a single room, and from there he had ordered his son to kill Ventus. _

_Roxas absolutely refused the command. He had seethed out to his father about how the boy had done nothing wrong, nor had the crew since their previous actions of kidnapping were justified by bringing Roxas back home. This disobedience was not received by Cloud well, and he had ordered his men to restrain Roxas so that they could inject him with a specially advanced serum that could hack into the lobe of the brain that houses fear, creating a hallucination simulation of the subject's worst fears. Link down below:_

"_This serum was created well ahead of its time since back in the fifteenth century there were such limited resources available. This leads to the assumption of theory that the assassin's guild had access to much more advanced technology or nanotechnology long before it was discovered in America. Others speculate the existence of magic and spells, though this theory is a highly shaky one and soon were declared unattainable. _

_Roxas was restrained and injected with this very serum upon his disobedience, and witnessed firsthand the devastating effects the serum has on the brain of its victim, leaving them crippled, shaken and traumatized. Some speculate it's this similar kind of effect that had possible led to the discovery of Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome."_

Suddenly fingers reach up over Roxas' screen and pushes down. Roxas looks up to find Sora with an exaggerated upset expression. "You know I'm all for one when checking my email, but it wouldn't kill you to socialize with us."

Roxas chuckles and adjusts his screen. "Sorry, I'm just doing research."

"Like I haven't heard that one before."

"Oh leave him be." Hayne chimes in. "Can you really blame him for wanting to research his ancestor? If I had one as cool as him I'd be interested too."

"What's he talking about?" asks Namine.

"Ms. Porter has given us a class essay assignment. She calls it "The Universal Archetypes" project. We're assigned to research one of our ancestors and give a presentation to the class all about the most interesting one. Neat, huh?"

"Sounds cool." Olette says. "But isn't Ms. Porter an English teacher?"

"English and Psychology." Roxas corrects. "And since I take that class also, who's to say t won't help both my grades."

"How did she come up with this idea?" Sora asks.

"Something about how the human mind has a collective unconsciousness and how we share the same memories as our ancestors." Hayner says as he waves his hand lazily.

"Don't act like you don't think that's interesting." says Roxas.

"Easy for you to say," Hayner pushes off the tree and leans forward. "You have an interesting ancestor. Mine was probably some serving wench at the local pub."

"You won't know until your actually look."

Hayner sighs and waves his hand again as if to ward off Roxas and his words like leaves in the wind. He leans back into the tree with his hands behind his head.

"Who's your ancestor, Roxas?" Namine inquires.

"The only one my entire family knows. My seven times great-grandfather; who, by pure coincidence, shares the same name as me." Roxas turns his computer to face the rest of the group, showing them the sketched picture posted with the article, and the title reading: "Roxas: Master of Assassin's."

"Wow! That's so cool! Your ancestor was an assassin?!" Sora blurts.

Olette and Namine immediately shush him as a group of students walk past them, their heads turned at attention.

"Little louder next time." Roxas sneers as he shields his face with his hand for the rest of the courtyard.

"Sorry, sorry. But that's seriously so cool!"

Roxas sighs. "Yeah well, only problem is, my parents don't feel too comfortable talking about him."

"Why not?" Olette says as she takes a sip of her green tea she ordered from the coffee chop located on campus.

Roxas shrugs his shoulders. "Something about how it's the family's "dark past", and how they don't want to bring it up again. But I don't really see the harm in talking about him."

"Did you say that?"

"Yeah, and my dad's response was that it's just my 'teen logic', and how that's the kind of thinking that gets my kind killed in horror movies."

The group shares a light laugh. Sora finishes his homework, stuffing his books unceremoniously into his backpack and pulling out a game droid. Olette takes a sip of her tea as she continues to watch Namine with her work.

"Your dad was always funny." Namine giggles. "Why don't you talk to him?"

"I've thought about it. He seems more lenient to talk about it, if only not in front of my mother."

"Was your great-grandfather on her side of the family?" Sora says.

"Yeah, and she once told me how even five hundred something years later, my grandfather is still causing trouble. And she told me about how her and her brother got into an argument over him and they haven't spoken in a while."

"Over an ancestor?"

"I don't know, I didn't pry, and she truly did seem bothered by it so I dropped it. And she's fine with me researching him, so long as I keep it to just research."

"What does she mean by that?" Hayner says opening one eye and peering at the group.

"Like I know, I'm only nineteen. Though she probably thinks I'm going to go off on some adventure." Roxas chuckles.

"Your mom always was a bit paranoid." Sora chimes. "But what about your uncle? Was he like, removed from the family?"

"He's still around, and I still keep in contact with him; but at family parties, he and my mom avoid each other in the fear that if they ever come close to one another, adams will split and hell will freeze over."

"So did you find anything else?"

"Just this one article. I'm sure there's other, but this one is long so I'm hoping that this has a lot more information to it. Though Ms. Porter said I needed two sources."

"That's really exciting. To think you're ancestor was a feared assassin." Namine smiles.

"Actually he didn't want to be a 'feared' assassin. According to this article, he had rebelled against his father and didn't want to be remembered as feared. Looks like that turned out well for him." Roxas says.

As he clicks to enlarge the picture, he sees something move out of the corner of his eyes. He looks to find a shadow figure standing over by one of the trees clear across the courtyard. He squints as he thinks he sees a glint of metal gripped in the figure's dark gloved hand. Roxas blinks, momentarily bewildered as he watches other students merely pass him by like nothing. Roxas looks around, at his friends, then back to the spot. His heart skips a beat.

The figure is gone.

Roxas rubs his eyes and gazes at the spot once more, but doesn't see the figure reappear. A part of him has to desperately resist the urge to ask Sora or Hayner if they saw anything; knowing all too well and having seen his fair share of movies to know that they'll just dismiss him as crazy and in need of a smoothie to combat the summer's heat. Shutting his laptop, Roxas stows it away into his bag as their little group gathers their things.

Soon the group disperses for their next classes and Roxas is released to go home has his classes end at ten o'clock in the morning. A system he proudly developed. On the drive home, he strangely finds himself to be excited for more information about his "Assassin Ancestor"; arguably the title he'll use for his essay.

His parents don't normally come home from work until early afternoon, and Roxas is bound for work at five soon. So when walking in, he settles his things on the kitchen table and helps himself to lunch. As he gathers his things needed for a sandwich, he simultaneously unpacks hiss laptop and books.

Once he's gathered the perfect assembling of chips, soda and a well stuffed sandwich, Roxas brings the things one at a time, up the stairs and into the family's office space. He sets the food aside and plugs in his laptop to charge. Bringing food into the office was a rule of his parents Roxas always broke when home alone; so long as he clears up the evidence.

After spending his lunch gathering information and writing down facts he deems worthy of being useful, he saunters off to his bedroom where he throws himself onto the bed and sighs in exhaustion.

A lighter weight joins him on the bed, and when he rolls over, he's met with the slobber wet kiss of his dog, Otter. Otter is a mix breed dog his family had adopted. None of them were sure what breed she was, but they confirmed she's definitely part pitbull. The shelter explained to the family how they had found her alongside a riverbend up north, and after being treated for heartworm the family adopted her as a Christmas present to Roxas.

"Hi Otter, good to see you too." Roxas chuckles as the pitbull mix slaughters his face with wet kisses.

Wiping off his face, Roxas settles himself into the pillows of his bed. Otter shifts to lying by his side, licking his arm. As his hand lazily strokes the dog's head, he gazes up at his ceiling, his fan spinning out of the corner of his eye. He slowly shuts them.

Something about the figure he saw still bothers him, though it can still be easily dismissed as some simple misidentification. Roxas has watched enough paranormal shows with his mother to know the difference between seeing things and mistaking things.

A muffled vibration opens Roxas' eyes and his hand searches into his back pocket to fish out his phone. He's received a text message from Axel.

When Roxas first mentioned his assignment to Axel, he offered to drive Roxas to the library, only to show him that his ancestor was the captain/pirate person who had traveled with the assassin. This was going off the simple basis of Roxas telling Axel what he had found in their in class research day when they went to the school's library.

Well aware of their relationship, the two shared a chuckle at how they could never come close to that sort of thing, seeing as how Roxas and Axel were coincidentally enough already friends when Roxas first started going to the University.

Reading his text of wondering if Roxas wanted to grab a cup of tea and rant about life, Roxas gives a quick response of time needed for work and to sleep of his exhaustion, Roxas locks his phone and resumes his petting of Otter's ear. Slowly, losing himself in the soft _cla-clink cla-clink_ of his ceiling fan, Roxas falls asleep.

Roxas dreams.

_Roxas pants through his bare teeth as he yanks the pickax out of his overseer's stomach. The man gurgles blood, clutching at his gut as he looks to the slaves in supplication. But one glance from Roxas, one flash of eyes that shows he has gone beyond the edge, keeps the slaves at bay._

_He merely smiles down at the overseer as he swings the ax into his face. His blood sprays Roxas' legs_.

"What's happening?" he thinks. His body moves, but not how he wants it to. It moves by its own means, and Roxas can't control it.

_The slaves still stay far away when he brings down the ax upon the shackles that bind his ankles to the rest of them. He doesn't offer to free them, and they don't ask; they know how useless it would be._

_The woman at the end of the chain gang is unconscious. Her back pours blood, split open by the iron-tipped whip of the dead overseer. She will die tomorrow if her wounds are not treated. Even if they are, she'll probably die from infection. Gollund amuses itself like that._

_Roxas turns from the woman. He has work to do, and four overseers had a debt to pay before he is done._

_Roxas stalks from the mines shaft, pickax dangling from his hand. The two guards at the end of the tunnel were dead before the realized what was happening. Blood soaks his clothes and his bare arms, and Roxas wipes it from his face as he storms down to the camber where he knew the four overseers worked._

_He had marked their faces the day they had dragged that young Bastion woman behind the building, marked every detail about them as they used her; the slit her throat from ear to ear. _

_Roxas could have taken the swords from the fallen guards, but for these four men, it had to be the ax. He wanted them to know what Gollund felt like._

_He reaches the entrance to their section of the mines. The first two overseers die when Roxas heaves the ax at their necks, slashing back and forth between them. Their slaves scream, backing against the walls as he rages past them._

"What's happening? What am I doing?" Roxas thinks. He expects himself to feel sick, but it strangely feels, right. And at the same time . . . familiar.

_When he reaches the two overseers, he lets them see him, let them try to draw their blades. Roxas knew it wasn't the weapon in his hands that made them stupid with panic, but rather his eyes – eyes that told them they had been tricked these past few months, that cutting his hair and whipping him hadn't been enough, that he has been baiting them into forgetting that Kingdom Heart's Assassin is in their midst. _

_But _he _had not forgotten a second of pain, nor what he had seen them do to the others – to that young woman from Hollow Bastion, who had begged to gods who did not save her. _

_The men died too quickly, but Roxas had one more task to complete before he would meet_ his _end_. _He prowls back up the main tunnel that leads out of the mines. Guards foolishly come rushing out of tunnel mouths to meet him._

_Roxas surges upwards, hacking and swinging. Two more guards go down, and he takes up their swords, leaving the ax behind. The slaves don't cheer as their oppressors fall; they just watch in silence, understanding. This is not a fight for escape._

_The light of the surface makes him blink, but he is ready. His eyes having to adjust to the sun would be his greatest weakness. That is why he had waited until the softer light of the afternoon. Twilight would have been better, but that time of day is to heavily guarded, and there are too many slaves about tem that could be caught in the crossfire. This last hour of full daylight, when the warm sun lulls many to sleep is when the sentries go lax on watch before the evening inspection. _

_The three sentries at the entrance to the mines didn't know what was happening below. Everyone is always screaming in Gollund. Everyone sounded the same when they die. And the three sentries scream just like the others._

_And then Roxas is running, sprinting for the death that beckons to him, making for the towering stone wall at the other end of the compound. _

_Arrows whiz pass, and he zigzags. They wouldn't kill him, by order of the king. An arrow through the shoulder or leg, maybe. But he will make them reconsider their orders once the carnage is too massive to ignore. _

_Other sentries come rushing from everywhere, and his blades are a song of steel fury as he cuts through them. Silence settles over Gollund. _

_He took a gash in the leg – deep, but not deep enough to cut the tendon. They still wanted him able to work. But he won't work – not again, not for them. When the body count is high enough, they'll have no choice but to put that arrow through his throat._

_But then he nears the gate, and the arrows stop._

_He starts laughing when he finds himself surrounded by forty guards, and laughs even more when they call for irons._

_He is laughing when he lashes out one last time – one final attempt to touch the wall. Four more go down in his wake._

_He is still laughing when the world goes black and his fingers hit the rocky ground – barely an inch from the wall._

Roxas gasps when he wakes to the blank canvas of his ceiling. His room is dark, and the familiar sound of the ceiling fan wafts towards his awareness. An unfamiliar tingle prickles along his limbs, like the faint buzz of static electricity. Somehow he'd skipped over his normal wake-up routine of rolling around and punching his pillows and had just opened his eyes.

He groans, a dull ache creeping up from his spine to settle in his chest. The faint pin-and-needles sensation, still there, buzzes through him like a soft vibration, through the closer he drifts to cull consciousness, the faster it seems to fade.

Roxas' gaze slips dazedly to his window, where he watches the glittering green tree limbs quiver and sway, waving in and out of his view, like clawed hands snatching at the sun.

The sun.

"Oh, shit!" he croaks.

Roxas sits up and pulls his phone out from under his pillow.

"Eleven thirty-five, oh _shit_!"

He had slept through the rest of yesterday and into the next morning. He had missed work, he hadn't set his alarm! He had missed a day of work and didn't call in! Why didn't anyone woke him up? Why didn't . . . ?

Roxas' eyes scan his room. The only bright side is that he had a late class today. "Mom?" his voice grades against his throat.

He swallows against the pain and pulls himself out of bed, the pads to his door and opens it.

Sticking his head out, he listens for any sign of his parents getting ready for work. Or a voice message saying school was canceled. He stares down the length of the empty, silent hall. He steps out and down the stairs, past the collage of family photos. Cold white daylight streams in through the front-door windows and through the lace curtains in the living room, but around him, the house seems dim and dead. "Mom?" Roxas calls out again, his throat now feeling slightly less like a cat's scratching post.

One by one he flicks on light switches as he reaches them even though it isn't that dark inside. The false light offers him little comfort. The silence is too thick. His fingertips brush the walls as he passes through the hall, moving towards the kitchen, where he knows he can find a cold ginger ale and maybe something to eat. He opens the fridge, opted for a Sprite, and drinks half before shutting the door again.

He figures that Axel probably covered for Roxas in lying that he had called off, and his college class doesn't start until one o'clock.

Still, that dream . . . he can see every detail, hear every word and scream. What could've caused it? Perhaps researching his ancestor before bed wasn't the smartest, as the website had no problem given vividly detailed descriptions on some of the kills he had committed. But that place, it wasn't anywhere that Roxas had read about on the article. It seemed – no, it _was_ a mine. A mine of some name. Grasping the handle of the fridge, Roxas rests his forehead against the cool surface. The cold feels good against his skin. He turns to press his cheek there too. _Let it go, Roxas. There's nothing wrong. It's just a dream_.

Roxas lets out a growl of frustration, pushing off of the ridge. He takes a noisy slurp of his Sprite and makes a beeline for the pantry. He is going to pull a typical teenager and find some donuts to scarf down for breakfast. He reaches for the cabinet door and stops.

A glint of silver on black catches his eye.

He looks, and the Sprite slips out of his grasp. It thumps to the floor, and soda spreads across the tiles with a quite hiss.

There, on the kitchen table, sits his familiar black laptop, summer sunlight gleaming off the illuminated screen and emphasizing the blackness of the large text spread across the screen that reads: "_Kingdom Heart's Assassin Captured_!"

He stares at the screen. It looks like the clipping of an old newspaper editorial. This isn't the page he had left opened when he last touched his laptop; and that was yesterday, in the evening. Roxas watches a trickle of soda crawl across the floor towards the kitchen chair. Despite everything in his being telling him not to, Roxas inches forward. His shadow settles over the screen, clarifying the writing of the article.

"_Kingdom Heart's most feared and notorious assassin has finally been captured! The young heir of Cloud Skyes and Tifa Lockhart has finally been detained by authorities of the King and put on trial_."

Roxas leans in as his eyes follow the words.

"_He has been tried Guilty, and condemned to a lifelong punishment in the mineral mines of_ –"

Roxas slams his laptop shut.


End file.
